Sunday, October 1, 2006

Nothing

Nothing like the black hole of night,
Nor bright and clear like the comforting day
A simple and motionless stranded kite -
Praying for something to take it away
Nothing like the words you spoke
Drunk with fermenting adrenaline
Much more like the stubborn oak
With propagating timberline
But silent and distant as the wind
That breathes nowhere around me
Until the suffering tempest moves past,
You abandon me where you found me
When you finally reach out your hand,
I'm lost among the grains of sand

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