Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Whether Prediction

the rain outside has dropped off, floating,
releasing cold miniature castles that is the
crumble beneath my feet.

My sneakers are like boats.
If I knew I’d have to swim I would
have dove collarbone swoop,
shift-like in essence.

Would have flung stars into
the clouds to burst my existence
in this short time of knowing.
You stand, like the unknown soldier

that walks in place, expressionless,
feeling what has happened in the storm
that creates your desires…
and shatters them.

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