Thursday, May 23, 2013


Joked that it doesn't matter much
because we'll be dead soon enough
knowing and uneasy all at once.

I'll never make a film, let's face it,
with this fine and visible tremor in
my hands, it's OK to call it terminal

I've accepted it.

Probably it's your punishment
for watching your grandmother reading
the newspaper so many years ago

Her hands shaking so hard you wondered
disgustedly how she could even focus
her eyes on the print

Some thought they could cure that in you
with love, a calming touch,
but that wasn't to be

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