Tuesday, March 10, 2009

found journal- first leaf

the fumes outside my door standing tall
hibernate to protect the stones I have left
habit has me set to run leaving tiny
remains of boulders in my wake
you have dug moats and sewn your seeds
shatter you're on your way from buildings tall of ivy

the stink of old perfume wafts
strongly back, hitting and
sticking to the inside of my
nostrils, windblown acid rain
it smells of brandy and peonies
rusting my lungs as it dates
the expression on my face
wiry silver strands set into rings
stuck by the ages fall down
to ivory rivers, feathered leaking
plum stained lips
is there love inside that fur rimmed coat?
immeasurable amounts.

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