Manuscript by Andrew Debono Cauchi

this manuscript

unbound unordered

abuses me

yearning for a wild conclusion

beyond moaning pages.

a conclusion…

…or eternal coma

…maybe a clumsy margin note.

…you call me back…as if on purpose.

i feel you fresh

beating from between the lines

piercing breaks in my bones,

which i count like words.

dunno why

i remain

as the pages of my body turn

with cracks…like in my bones,

maybe you crave me, not vice versa.

don’t give up

we’ll meet again

either in the hideaway between syllables

or in the eternal silence.

that day. take me. as yours.