In shadows I blurry our edges,
I merge the insides.
I burn all the pages
Inside of your eyes.
I top off my glass,
With a touch of your sweat.
I reckon this mixture’s,
As good as we get.
I hide you in canvas,
I hide you in song,
I hide you in poetry,
In writing’s not wrong.
The movement is catching,
The winds are contagious.
Through worm holes, we’re spinning,
The thunder won’t save us.
We bind ourselves tightly,
We fear being free.
We wait and we fester,
Suspended eternally.
Mar. 19/Apr. 25
2012
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