Missing Pages

Lost in the northern winds
that steadily careen over
known and sometimes foreign pastures
in search of regarding shores
and darkness of eyes that would lower its gaze
and caress through words
to hear me
to listen silences within me
in spaces and lines
that i'd present about my pasts.

Make my pain your story,
your unheard voices mine.
Write like i do
tear them and say that you miss
your missing page's texture,
the touch of its possession,
end it with this lie
and let the southern winds carry them
to someone careening over
known and foreign pastures
in search of regardless shores.