paths. frail knots in the eventual. slowly coming undone. the colors. the heady gasp. of each moment suffocating on its own virulent strain of agenda.
the broken highways that led us here. in stumbles and chokes. small candles in a surging darkness.
the outlines name her. in speculations of when. the science of the flesh. a long division. always a remainder.
the end. like doses of poison. attempting to cure this sickness that is self. the end. hollow doors guarding room much more empty than I care to remember.
the obvious hysteria of knowing. gradually growing louder.
Her voice like fireflies in the dying dusks of summer.
everything is distant. everything is impossibly close.
the obvious monsters fall like confetti. in a parade of strangers.
an Epiphany of skin. louder than reason.
Sunday
3/09/2014 12:51:00 AM
| Life Poems |