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Thursday, July 25, 2013

Portobello

confessions i don't know how to speak
wash over me in waves,
tips touching in nature i'm here with you, like
a thousand thoughts come forth
the most persistent army.

I fear for the darkness
taunting, smooth sister
I know she finds purchase in blood.

sweet desperation I see you here
if this becomes the last of me I hope I've been a witness to both sorrow and joy.
I am a prophet
I am a prophet
I am a prophet
I am a prophet
teling you to fight;believe your eyes and know this selfless news. i am string I am held up by fields of wind on all sides to remind me I am temporary. I am not made for us. I am not made for these seconds in time. I speak the tongues, many follow.

do you know what we are if we try?
creatures crawl on me up sand and grass
and take pieces of flesh
but I have a committment to memory.
you do
I do
with moist eyes and cheeks let's view the world cleanly.

we are being a s s a u l t e d by the things we put in our hands
I have a purpose.