Sunday 9/02/2012 12:10:00 AM

the grinning sky. not listening. the soft street. chasing. papers in the wind. before there was ink we had blood. now these veins are empty. as quiet as the world that owns us. tiny pictures. staining the glass between. engine and lantern. light and power. murder and mercy. it's when it's darkest that best I can see.

the tear in the fabric. weeping on her skin. the needle in her fingers. pistons thrusting in a vacuum. strangers playing god to the devils in her head. the simple paths. the broken leaves. storybooks in tremors. breadcrumbs in machetes.

the apple ripe. the garden eager. the choice still sowing seeds.

it's quiet. the numbers. the faces. looking for flowers and footprints in the mud after the storm. everyone shares the raindrops. but the dirt is always our own.

a narrow road. a hungry man. they are each the same. a mile. an inch. under these circumstances they both measure the same.

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