Tuesday, April 24, 2012

sonnet eighty seven

undoing the last remaining
thoughts i have hidden,
unthinking the few remaining
actions to deviate from you

because they all have
gone senseless and futile
and desperate if you
will - when i knew that

there is absolutely nothing
i can do to stop the fall -
when something like this

exists - so powerful and
certain, exploring all tangents
and corners and angles.

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