My thoughts of you, are not but untruth

Poem by Marc Aupiais

I read, but parts I don't
understand.
It is not my home tongue,
as though not my land!
I pray, but I can't yet
understand, but, as yet, I don't not,
Comprehend!

I read lips, but they speak
different on hand.
I read hearts, but here they died or fast!

I look to the whirlwind of
The desert,
I came here to follow
You, in my heart!

But here, I am not home,
And I digress and
postpone!

It is as though I am bound
to here, to you, on loan.

Tied with a stone,
Tethered in your blood, kiss and
bones.

I am not: no longer my
own,
I love you, my tether,
My new flesh and bones.

I am your, whatever my
home! But I am here on
Long-term loan.
And when I expire,
I'm not simply replaced,

I am here, however many
stone! A slave to you, a
loan!


And though I glance left, in
Disgust, right without
caring much,

I stay, I learn, I lose,
For you!

For you are why I'd stay
anywhere... And why I'd
care to share, to life bare!

You, see, love, does, care!
For, it, any cold, I'd bare!

For you alone I care!

For love, what is it, but like
... gravity?

Love one, and about the
world you care!

This I share! I dare to bare!

... Without you... I
wouldn't ... care!