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Frantic touch and splintered harmony,

We have nothing left but our loss,

And nothing to lose

But what we have left.

Shaking with desire and fear,

And fatigue that could kill.

The smile is an ignored speculation;

Meaningless formality.

We dance into the scowling night,

Oblivious to enhanced shock

And cornered nightmares—

Banishment has its privileges.

Squealing grocery cart wheel


We’re all lost:

The good ones stay that way.

I see a mystery in dripping water,

And listen to its tale.

In the end, I’m convinced:

It’s lying.

The light threatens;

Peers over the horizon.

Trying to find us and end our adventure.

And so we sleep.

posted 4/05/07


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