Truth To Be Told

With this weight
clinging to my laughter,
cold weight of you
and your indifferent love,
shadows drag by my side
draining my spine of its thick marrow.

And you, on the phone, with neither
peace nor passion in your voice,
may as well tell me
you are regretting the days
once with me, have decided
to remain newborn on the crust
of some exclusive adventure, in foreign
cities, on unexpected streets, stay,
swimming in immediacy where the miracles
are yours alone to claim and keep,
and the remembrance of my smile
has no effect.