the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

A Tree In A Storm

We spin wildly from perplexing lethargy,
References indefinitely redefined
To ultimate become rag dolls at the finish line.
As I lie on my bed, I question the geometry
Of limbs and the symmetry of my head.
But there are no new angles to discover,
They all stem to the same new beginning,
Synthetic fruitfulness, a future as we make it.
Cold air blows tears in the eye of a hurricane.
Storm the front and squeeze juice from this surname.

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