Friday, April 13, 2012


These mechanical skies, they have no business
Opening into oblivion. I'm reluctant to stand
Under them lest my legs give out to whispers
From the jaws of a pop ontology quiz.

As one in her faraway city is safe behind clouds,
More days for me to wake up in are promises
Easy to believe but not to accept; they light
My way with untenable songs of their ends.

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