Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Verse: Time

if it weren't
for those busy hands
endlessly circling

the light
ebbing from
the living room

the glacial abrasion
and the lines left
on my forehead

I would hardly notice
time pass

caught in the ever present
void of now

like a thief

If I stayed
in that moment
I would be lost

each breath and
a ghost is born
which we call memory.

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