the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Monday, October 25, 2010

The Great Don't Fall In Limbo

The soil bears her own scars
From cities razed and refounded.
The dates read on each sarcophagus
Are older than the sacred ground itself,
Thousands of plots for a line of best fit.
Only the heart of the matter
Is found from the incision that cuts through
Well and pipe that burst in synchronization.
The sound of glorious horns play like the devil's
That teases you with his woeful tremors.
Reciprocate and fall in love,
Sharing breaths with the ground,
Blow a kiss, stay above.

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