Monday, October 8, 2012

Cloudy Heaven Sent

Take a minute to                                breathe in steady longing
and make yourself into a work of art.
                                        Wanderlust
                          You               bite             the             dust
on the far side of
near sightedness.
All along the corridors of                               forbidden
and
                                     unbidden taste sensation
you make your mark in
                                silver                               and                                black.
It smokes off of machine dust when you write
                            your name in the grime of dystopia.

Hallelujah.
                The Lord and his Lady are looking
through me
                 I cannot                   locate my ability              to see or send

No mend.
A broken picture frame.

You're something much more beautiful than invisible should be. 

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