the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Day 54: Fixity

We were on your front lawn
Where red dust stuck on blue paint
That flew through an open window,
Once broken by the babbles of a brook.
This brick porch is a creek bed,
Was once the cat dander and mosquitoes
That found their place on my skin,
Now buried deep in time.
And if I didn't have the first title,
I would've burned out the whole spectrum
Because this is everything:
The golden flame, the silver ring
The bronze medal that three could bring.

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