Tuesday 10/02/2007 12:50:00 AM

Talking to the ladders. In spits of paint as we reach for the ceiling with dirty brushes. No more mirrors overhead. No more rivers overlooking the ruthless saviors in our pants.

We're undone.

Woken up from dreams we'll never finish.

Tangled in the sails of this sinking boat.

Aching arms reaching for the naked spots above us.

Arguing with the staircase. In torn sails. The democratic election of apathy. Every vote counted only if it's correct.

With broken crayons. With scissors in her heart. The picture is drawn. In tiny pieces. Useless cuts. Spoil the lines she'd drawn.

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