Wednesday, September 17, 2008

2940.5 miles

next to the river

Warm pain, razor radiated light.
Beautiful sadness in the way
The black-haired beauty looked at me

Running barely from conversation
Caught on a hook, cut out of the mouth.

Well corrected wind, cycle by iron gates
Shelled with lunacy, bathed in blue fear.

There was,
A moment when it was
Caught-

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