And time goes beyond distance.

And time goes beyond distance

while I prepare my flight

with packed trunks

lost dreams and

volatile notes.

I want to eat out of your hand

as a tamed sparrow

waiting which finger to choose

to get the full loot.

My memory is drying out

from guzzling emotions

and what you offer are crumbs.

Wounded bird doubts

which way  to choose,

the easiest,

the fastest,

the safest,

to leave

this tired tale.

You are Louise as in

Rilke's'

Louise luckless love packed in

dissolving paper ending in

an opened coffin stored in

a robbed tomb.

Meanwhile

time goes beyond distance.

What would you have for breakfast?

Beforehand:

 I apologize if ...

(I do not really feel sorry, but a bit of drama adds to the setting.)

... what you thought to be a portion of

romance or a poetic reverie

looks rather

a medical bulletin.

As a slice of suffering is

entertaining so many people

all over the globe

these days

I thought I could

not,  not

raise the subject.

This being said

I would like to share now

with you,  my

freshly baked skull aches

to put on a

Sunny Sunday Morning

breakfast table.

A mindful headache;

a scratching ear;

a runny nose;

a tearing eye;

a bad breath;

a scraping throat;

tooth ache!

I'll eat my hat you

have identified at least one

of those weaknesses

or shall we call them flaws

or if you prefer deficiencies.

Be prepared to have for lunch  

a meal of neck, back

stomach and other floggings.

And for diner

the illnesses of the

lower limbs.

I hate to say it...

(again, I do not really feel sorry but a bit of drama adds to the setting.)

 ... but your coming night

will be eventually

aroused

with the painful dreams of the broken heart.

Oh I forgot...

Did i tell you what

I decided today

to entertain you about ?

Right!

..