Friday, September 7, 2012

thirty seven

lazy monday morning
the sky is grey and white
you'll look out your window
and watch the birds take flight

their blurring bodies
their solemn song
their perpetual panic
their thriving throng

breath and blood escape you
as you prick your snowy finger
the satisfaction is painful
and the pleasure never lingers

your blurring body
your solemn song
your perpetual panic
your writhing wrong

a single leaf is tossed
to the ground by the cruel wind
all alone she travels
no companion can she find

her blurring body
her solemn song
her perpetual panic
her lamenting long

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