the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Day 100: Spoke Too Soon

Air pushed through a plastic tube,
Hot and weak like fresh smoke.
It spoke to spores that had seen a war
But were now getting caught in the draft;
Shell shock: the alarms rocked as it all left again,
All it lacked, like money sacks, exploded like the pen.
All of the sworn promises that you left on the line
Were none you can make nor were they ever mine,
They broke a perfect surface, a once newly-born moon,
Whose craters hold the echoes of words we spoke too soon.

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