Monday, March 3, 2008

Hatching Five

Outside my window,
I raced the sounding engine's whistle only days ago.
A volcano given way to pressure,
there are jewels in the river.
Ash flowing downstream launders my skin of the memory.
Smiles are not painted,
faces are not made of canvas.
Drinking lye,
etching truth into magnetic stone.

Dissolving value and burning,
burning my eyes again.

Reflections prove precisely what you never were.
Oh, how I should have known,
the soothing glow,
it told me so long ago.
Oh, how I should have known,
the words we formed,
they sound out your name.
Oh, how I should have known all along.
It is only a word, it is only a word, it is only a word,
I will always remind myself.

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