You came and asked him why he stood there.
Staring into his eyes
Cold as ice
With words melting
Into ears
That for years
Could only hear
Your voice.
As we stood there
,
Like Outliers
,
Without words
Because we were never heard
Because we never had
Any words
To say
Anyway
Because each time
He came with you
,
Like ice
melting
into your eyes
That for years
Could only hear
Your voice.
© Hudson Biko
Photograph: Romain Lours
Living in the absence of its recognition
Because it always leads
to the ignition
of emotions
we keep
trying
to let
go
-calling it, denial.
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Willspirit Sbln
We poured it into ourselves
letting it seep
through valves
that would let it
bleed
into the parts
of us that were
always torn apart,
that would let it
feed
the parts
of us that were
always hungry for a part
of more,
for
the parts of us that we always wanted to make
whole
;
but torn things are never whole
,
their holes
are left
bleeding
and seeping
into valves
that feed
the parts of us
that were
more.
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Hisu lee
Perpetuating
in
chains
of
unforseen
permutations
,
Reveling
in their
salvation
As they
pierce
through
the fragments
we call
identity
,
As
they pierced through
the fragments
of conformity
into
our own reclamation
;
Calling it,
© Hudson Biko
Photograph: Casey Horner
The
remnants
pour in.
Expecting
me keep them
in
Like inns
that
keep
those
who
seek their refuge,
Like inns
that
keep
those
who
never found what
they went looking for
;
Keeping-in
those
who
never
get sick
of seeking
,
Those whose remnants
never leave us
,
Because they’re always
pouring in
and we let them stay
like inns
Because
we
never find what
we keep waiting for
,
Because
I
never find what
I keep waiting for
© Hudson Biko
Inspired by the Daily Prompt: Ruminate
hudson biko 