Thursday, March 15, 2012

Innocently


innocently, I am being killed
hands wrap around me like prayer
the stretch of my arms losing all hope

happily it is done and gone
in intervals of rain, fallen breath
whirling fantastic, flying into release 

a comet's fragment of track
this hand across my heart saving me 
an empty room to understand everything

_

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what we are built for

in the days when the kids were smaller and my parents younger and they lived here  six months of the year                                   ...