July 13, 2011

asymetrically patterned in the weeds,waiting









mad enough to steal love


from chariots regret
carrying memory
like a sponge waiting for water,
we are heavy enough
to wish for salt
to wash away
the exit wounds
and all the flesh boons
we naked apes
want quickened fingers for,
empty spaces to fill again,
driven in birdsongs
and the quiet assured pace of Dawn,
yes we belong,
always moving,
always instilled vibratorial splendor,
any end or more succinctly
where the circles lend beginnings,
to trees winged
with cracked cupped ceilings,
that whisper Autumn is coming
in the rain
and is just waiting to hear
how thirsty we might be
between jarred comfort and ice aged
advances our cells hold
in the keys fit to the stars 
clouding what crowds clamor,
hammer and nail
laddering to the Moon,
gallows waiting in the shadows
that bend time zoomed
reflect her wedded crescent
reddened just past the rooftops
dog-stretching dreams
awakening the day
a few moments too soon
seams not quite sewn enough
to hold what keeps us
inside ourselves...

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