The smell of
petrichor
and thunder
The taste of
solace
and goodbye
The sound of
memory’s
last rejection
The touch of
love’s
enduring lie
That thing
that slips
between your fingers
A feeling
lost
when foundlings cry
The sight of
vision’s
lost intention
Whose moment
bleeds
— Je Nais Se Quois
(The New Room: January, 2026)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: January 22nd, 2026 10:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
This was beautiful Kurt the addition of the French (which I had to look up) added a wonderful touch.
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