Even Buddhists suffer
The dark side of love.
No amount of meditation
Can eliminate the agitation
Of a mind oppressed by loneliness,
The memories that make the loneliness
Acute. Last night I dreamt of you
Without ceasing. The ticking of the
five day clock
Echoing with metallic precision
Through the rooms and hallways.
When you are home we gently say "goodnight"
At the top of the staircase under the yellow light.
But now this holy space is a pool of shadows
In these depths I would drown if my dreams were
not lit by your face.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter
28th. October 2025.
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