Monday, December 26, 2011

gazes

the pages of your gazes ascertain no more than a quiet refrain
in other words, I thought I could love you
but I could not swallow fast enough
to retrieve what had been stolen from the heart of the moon

if only I could wash away your toxic plastic tears
in order to bring salt to the surface
and awaken a vast purification
in other words
I thought I would love you
no matter what
by any means necessary
blending into a hopeful sky
and this life is never about what you receive
it is about what you are unfailingly,
unflinchingly willing to give

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