Friday, February 3, 2012

dead lines

whole ache of my own vessel
tissues slough & flake off
cold extremities, reaching deep
to the core, there must be energy
stored there, there must be better ways.
no stillness til dawn
or dusk, whichever comes first –
why the constant race, why
the focus on finishing,
why don’t we just extend
the continuum, mystery
of immunity, just float.

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