Monday, July 9, 2012

sonnet one hundred sixty five

tossed in arbitrary and
undefined depths, this soul
is earth bound, with the
happenstance reaching what

could be its meaning,
chained and calloused by
the recollection of this mindless
pace, too soaked or sudden

for lingering silence,
the haze and motion of
colors yet to be named,

overcoming resilience and
all that which stifle the
best of us both.

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