June 2011
124 posts
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A Stencil of Our Love
The engraving you made on me:
A kiss, at peace.
Thank you so much.
Now I pick my heart up,
Lace my feet into the road,
And carry a stencil of our love
To draw onto every rock
For every step you take with me.
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Ignite
I shuffle through the dust
dragging my tattered feathers
of unsaturated prism
to the rusty sunset
watching my steps.
A trail of blood.
I will ignite myself
into tornado rainbows
and I will reach the horizon
both by walking toward it
and by leaving it behind.
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This Is Life
I can open the door or I can lock it,
But this house will stand
Until it falls.
I can sing or I can be silent,
But I will have a voice
Until I lose it.
I can walk or I can lie down,
But my feet will carry me
Until they stop.
I can live life or I can wait for it to pass,
But my life will go on
Until it ends.
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the freedom to dig
Suddenly I noticed,
when the line between my mind and its skull grew imperfect,
that I am completely free
to dig myself a hole in the comfort of form,
to sew myself a blanket of light and weight,
and that if I think myself able to flee into the meadow
when the worms arrive to decompose what appears dead,
I am free to try.
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