Friday 10/04/2013 12:04:00 AM

the warm winters fool her. every time. a short gasp of faces. breath more distance than journey. soft footprints the wind always erases. leaving us lost. yet content to be.

the edges whisper and spark. the mad combination of fire and darkness. the edges scream. boulders breaking free from the mountain. stones defying the heavy chorus of gravity.

the cold winters come. eventually. in stark angles that proliferate shadows. spies in her heart. revealing rooms she never knew were empty. 

naming the corners. each wall another skin. the chaos of the structure. concealing the weakness of the skeleton. the merchant in her math. sells her one more chance. the seldom in her poetry. fumbles with the answers to the questions she's afraid to ask.

time flaunts its cliched cancers. blood boasts its pitiful cures.

always.

eventually.

all of us.

embrace the disease.

0 comments:


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2016. All Rights Reserved.