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.