Thursday, December 11, 2008


This cold will always prevail through and through
back twisted and root wise, soiling the hours held
precariously, our earthbound slips and starts
buried in the deep hush below

If this is your disquiet,
If here is where the start ends and the end begins,
Then bleed until drip-dry
a sonorific slip of torqued tongue

No matter the distance, the shadows keep chase.

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