Sunday, January 2, 2011



They are tearing down
Building again
Their roots are showing; you see?-
Exposed to or deprived of oxygen
The intensity of concrete lives on
In the eyes of men attempting
To breathe less often



She built a radio
Out of waves
The static is his love
She can’t see but knows is there
Whoever listens to it
But every one?


I shape your longing into king-sized marbles
Like the ones we rolled down a hill
And waited on either side of cement
Like ash on the edge of a tray
Any breeze could pick us up
And disperse us into opposite directions



You are like honey inside a jar
There will be atoms of you left
Like shadows moving
In and out of
Spheres, always a box
To protect them from falling asleep

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