Juna

Love doesn't soothe me, the wind or her bones, the Lime and Cypress trees, a glance behind what trips, a metropolitan tone, whispers, forget those lips, i drink tea constantly, lousy with what i know, against the blue infirmary, a young woman's life ripped, made up like a scarecrow, firm within the doctors' grip, beside me constantly, her breath a gentle moan, what is all this certainty, give her what she needs, a future back home, who cares for company, to life that's almost gone.