Monday, November 19, 2012

The Stars and My Fingertips

I'm spending my time
                      naming all my sins
in order to                                acquaint myself                       with the
intuition that we've come to ignore

Cracking bones to build new homes
                          and breaking in new shoes so we can forget
Bruise
And
Break
And
Crack
And
Burn.
We're            here where we've

always

been.

Musical interludes are attempting to write
              an                  ocean that is loud enough
for us to
          think it's just us.

It's like a forced entry
into a house who leaves its doors
unlocked
and its windows
carrying a sign that says
OPEN.
You're going where she went
I'm watching you hold back
It's just another heart attack

One

Beat

Before

Burst.


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