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this fiction of mine laboured flux in the skull of mysteries and memories worked by furies to the wheel is dealt a willing thread into...

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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