Wednesday, May 20, 2009


Wrong, he says, anger in the softest touch.
I laugh.
Not at the attempt, but to drown the fall.
Even empty streets have ears.
And Pride is fragile despite her wrath.

Lost, she says, crystal sympathy in pale blue orbs.
Startle me.
Captivate me.
Save me?
and I can't even try.
Turn the sun in her eyes, flee into the night.
You'll never catch me alive.

I would stay, like I once said
but I really have to go
Dodging hooks that fall like rain
is easier on my own

Confused, he declares, holding on cheerfully
to a crumbling dying past.
And all our worlds crash around us
like shattering crystal glass.

(I don't like it.
I know; please don't cry?)

I would reach out and touch you
But you're not really there
Dodging hooks that fall like rain
I know better than to care

Inarticulate, like the fishes on your wall, she says.
I pretend not to listen.
But I know.
We're all caught in undeserved pasts
She only continues to smile
While I sweep up the glass

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