April 26, 2011

Hidden buzz in the clouds blue skeleton skies peeling skin as an afterthought the naught bought laud is surviving the poison on the ascent the lent is a fast of something, some material rib slow turned in the Sun , forty days an arbitrary number long moon desert madness counting in thirst and the thin bosom of day and night that garden the soul in a perfect amount of sound in the silence and the temperature faded into the universe's amniosis and the trick is not to breathe too much in at once so as to not cramp up after eating dinner in the torn light the leaves again chewing through fingers of another day passed stretched into twilight's arms ,certain birds marking the curtain with a bow and wave goodbye...

1 comment:

  1. So much love for this passage.

    These, in pieces, just floor me:
    Hidden buzz in the clouds blue skeleton skies
    peeling skin as an afterthought
    the naught bought
    on the ascent / the lent / is a fast of something
    an arbitrary number long moon desert / madness counting / in thirst
    and the trick / is not to breathe

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