Monday, January 5, 2015

5 january

the skymap collapses upon me from time to time
discarding stars that harden bars of measurement
longtiude means nothing in space but straight away
on and onward and few scents th ericher
tossing coins in the dust bin and shaking out the rug
so much to have dug out and uncovered
the excavation of so many nations all rumbling into books
creaky as a doorstep to nevermind
outlines are constellatoins but so much space within
we sink to swim and drown again
(i'm sure you know the story)
words reheard and held again
(i've got some place to be)
no room left for invitations
(turn the lightning out)

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