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Claudiu Komartin
64
We Try to Convince the Madness
My brain throws me against every wall,
your brain is a Martian drifter
combing white rice for the meaning of it all.
In the end, you may come nearer,
you may move in with me here, between waters.
Our arteries will quickly overcome stage fright —
soon, we will scrape together
our despair with a palette knife.
We try to convince the madness
to respect a familiar pace.
One day, with string of catgut
this world will sew our mouths shut.