Thursday, January 5, 2012

sonnet twenty seven

maimed, crushed, bruised
by the heady silence even
with the attempt to break it,
but i wait and i remain

an era, a time, a moment
i can be yours and you would
believe it can be
and you would simply believe

in apparitions and in things you
do not see, the strength that it
holds water, that it is changeless

that you will find me still, definite,
exact, relentless to have you
mend the ruined.

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