Thursday, May 26, 2011

Back on Air

And these prayers are to myself
these dreams are drunk alone

subtract addresses from needs
and add goodbyes to arrivals

I lived in music once
I talked once like air

fears were small rooms
thoughts huge and cirrus

Just now all type is white
on paper black with desire

some words part my lips, crawl
out, dazed as new butterflies.

_

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