lundi, octobre 25, 2004

As we reach the end of our wick

As we reach the end of our wick
hearts made shallow and clear from heat
lit from within
like a woman with three hearts
who melts forward on her stem
we sink down
and burn the last small ounce around us
holding, expiring,
drowning
on a pedastal of tin.

1 Comments:

Blogger Lukas Abrhm said...

you know...i'm really really sorry i haven't visited this site recently...and i'll do my best to catch up...dammit!

8:45 PM  

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