Monday, February 06, 2012

finishers

past the bend of light, the shadow of stones,
the fog of July, shapeshifting the planes
because they take off while I think of Truth,
dense obscurity, the wind through my teeth,
these darkening thoughts, no grammar exists,
I is you me one, these are the mysteries,
the mysteries of Blank, bikes in tawny lanes,
broken telephone, few are the mysteries,
these words in my head, few are the mysteries



yes this is an

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