Sunday, April 1, 2012

poem a day #1 - can I really hang? we'll see

4.1.12

the night slides slowly and smoothly
a rowboat through the lake of dreams
ripples breaking through the perfect mirror of 
the starry starry sky, alive with the dark

underneath this subterfuge of calm beauty
in beds little hearts beat at top speeds
and words and tears of deep sorrow
odes to old times in young eyes
perfectly beautiful memories, full of forgetting
golden and bright regardless of  
the fights that punctuated those days 
with flames relentlessly
but this yearning back from big sleepy sad eyes
keeps a slightly bigger heart up 
through the night, beating at top speed

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