Unacquainted Silhouettes



My dis-ease is like
a tattered autumn leaf
that come snapping off with
dead twigs of ailing branches,
bearing the onset of cold
in the weather

My dis-ease is like
a far-away boat in the
deep sea, shrinking in
size and sight in the
tangerine dusk sky, as if
consummating a funeral

My dis-ease is nothing
but a solicitor of pain
which they keep finding
in my liver, lungs, intestines,
and sometime spine, but
they always forget the heart