Wednesday 8/14/2013 01:31:00 AM

solvent storms wager the moments. in thunder. the wager overcomes her. constructing the soul. in scraps and tremors. of the last distaster. empty houses grab the storm. easy bridges. of stones and sticks. chase the ghosts that make their home in the edges.

the broken ladders. the spent doors. a chaos of fangs in the shadows of her picinic. wearing her forest in stolen angles. and discarded dressess.

the softer words still trying to decide. as the hard edges creep inward.

seldom leopards. reticent wolves. all the howls a predator can boast. like broken nails. struggling to hold together so much rotting wood.

the bulb goes out. the light surrenders. it's in our nature to deny it. but the shadows know us better.

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