Saturday, August 31, 2013


Your words fall around me
and I
catch them before they crumble
Unbeknownst to you—or any other—
they sink to the bottom of my soul
I use them to tinge humdrumness
inducing spells of sacred diversions
But later
they sink me, influenced and influencing,
undid and undoing me
even when you're quiescent
So you fill me
and I
nervously prattle in your presence
as well as absence,
failing to extinguish
the bleeding of our colors
Touched and touching
Cursed and cursing
I get lost in your pauses
and find myself there, too.

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