the wind wept thoughtlessly. a shuddering bridge between apathy and rage. her silence a tombstone to mark the place where tomorrow had died.
how do we get there. how will we know. it's close.
sex is a beautiful allegory. a vivid history. of lives that often spark, but seldom ignite.
the scrape awakened. soft and diligent. pushing each minute into place. that impossible friction that mimicks the void.
it's a simple path riddled with many holes.
soil sorted. weights measured. the continuity of obsession. time is paper. life is creases.
her lazy dreams corrupt her. her spoiled ambitions betray. her voice is sober. her future is glass. her words are stones.
Friday
1/02/2015 12:00:00 AM
| Life Poems |