the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Hurting Game

Another round for the young woman while
This metal dancer twirls to the ground.
It's not that shocking from the cockpit
To land in a soft pit, to break the fall
Or break it all up in a series of
A lonely whistle on this jacket is blown,
Hot Cross Buns in a monotone
For that church child now lost
In the roar of the choir's chorus undeniable.
Release and then think, no.
Release and believe, undesirable.
With all things considered but the other side,
In these arms, you will inevitably reside.

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