the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

The Rising Tide

The horizon was anxious in a rising tide,
The foreseeable future had met with present light.
They left in the dark like a secret being made
And each convenant given was another well received.
I couldn't feel what you were meaning
I couldn't see that you were speaking,
Your lips and my lungs were dead even,
I just breathed in every word that you were leaving.

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