the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Well Needed, If I Can Remember

Throw alcohol on the fire
Feel it burn down your throat,
Breathing a familiar smoke passed away.
It is the dust from an urn,
The week died quietly and quick,
So suddenly stick mouths
Closed upon muddy thoughts.
You cease to remember the creases you forgot
Left at the bottom of heavy pockets.
From stepping in puddles, they are wet.
Overstepping into a rainclouds
Is the same sound that you kept
The change in altitude
As the cabin pressure dropped.
The air moves past my lungs
But nothing clung, no time to stop.

No comments: