Friday, December 07, 2012


bury me until light passes
and I'll be grateful. 
Not to feel any but cold
nothing to warm the morning. 

Moon your hung too low
small on the horizon.
Where are the fallen wings
drowned out to sea.

Gutter my treasured
ancestral things washed away.
leaving a scintillating ache
of grief chemical and sticky

Darken environs close fast
this missing straw token

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