Sunday, April 8, 2018

weave of who

that which makes me vulnerable
also makes me strong
held against the wind of day
the struggle becomes the song

of weight
of weather
and of heart
kept in check by fear
measure each & every moment
against love's atmosphere

broken or whole
each mask dissolves in rain
the sophomoric nature of this verse
belies its visceral refrain

unbuckle the light
that lies in lies in old bones
and grab the golden moon
the conversation between my ghosts
will be over at half past noon

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