Wednesday 9/17/2014 12:35:00 AM

following the stutter of hollow roads. the pictures arrive. ghosts visiting their former skins. colors choking on the greys.

she doesn't count how long. time is all sugar and sand.

the road gives chase. gravity erupts. athe world is distant. one small pleat in a massive series of folds. the angles are what matter. the geometry is fickle. in the math that we bleed.

all smoke and lava.  numbers without faces. distance without weight.

too far she whispers. as if someone might be listening. the curiousity of touch overwhelming. closer she confesses. the crush of indifference. like a blank orgasm.

the indefinite void. the stubborn why. the scrape of skin against the glass.

the blind. looking in.

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