Morphogenesis

lost in 1988
I pulled you back
on that dead day in March
bedevilled you spoke
in tongues atop
my sixties concrete ziggurat –
you jumped anyway
into Lethe
despite my ideology
I chickened out

1998
I found you in Asylum
caged by Clozaril
you had travelled too far
into the past
for my healing powers
I could have stayed
but your lungs
already breathed water –
no need to rescue you.

Patrik Gryst

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