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this fiction of mine laboured tightly in the skull of memories and mysteries worked to the wheel by furies who deal the willing thread in...

Friday, December 2, 2011

floodin'rain...'diluvio' said my cellmate

 floodin’rain…'diluvio' said my cellmate

there is always rain in the aftermath of love unkind
a burning feat known only when our present tears settle
for nothing less than a full serving and one doubtless score
we are dragged to wash the initial stain –inevitable burden-
from that first graceless fall…we wade in the clear waters
unknown but so inviting like the fruit at hand…and we
are ready to land that shore of fire and feel a million
tongues within our nerves…we ride the rush in the rapids
of the cage grieving our loss...spinning in a whirlwind of rue
sorrow and blame -swept far and away as the heart breaks
and we are made to stand without faith before a real judge
tarnished bloodletter of dregs who begrudges his own take
and before whom we recollect all the things possible fallen
from our hands carelessly…its  blood spills washed away

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