Sunday 1/24/2010 01:18:00 AM

The Weight. On both ends. Pulling us up. Dragging us down. The division. Then and now. A series of strangers. All trying to fit into the same ugly gown.

The particle. God on her fingertip. Too small to see. As fragile as the possibilities we've let infect us. As big as the worlds we've let swallow us up. Searching for the one in which we belong.

The oven. Waiting for heads. The future stalled on torn dresses. The kind she wore when the step was closer. The parachute. Waiting for falling. The ship waiting for ocean. The need for balance. Is most obvious. In the bandages on sore wrists.

Gods come and go. The corners are all we have. When those walls forget.

Two islands. One ocean. To drown us.

Everything breaks. The glass must follow.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2021. All Rights Reserved.