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Jul 2015
you sing on and on (and on) in the foreground as
the meter aches and constricts; with its power, beauty, antipathy
searing distances between us, hearing the becomings of null somethings

we reunite with the blankness
of pristine white passages
to break free from inertia


I cannot describe my infatuation with a split second
the embrace, the longing of wordless writers
and their unacknowledged cruelties

grieving over all this birthing
objecting to their own last words
the fresh blood of teething &
the prodding of our sores
Written by
vhcgjhf  United States
(United States)   
383
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