By Marshall Hann Submitted by Blessed23 Date: 2009 May 31 Comment on this Work [[2009.05.31.08.54.9324]] |
Snowflakes descend quietly, gently on this cloudy morning and my eyes are open so I can not dream or hold this perfect silence, just pieces of you, broken and irredeemable (like Me) There is a constant tide of misplaced desire burning my memories while I clumsily caress your imperfect skin (alleviating the injustice of loneliness for this microscopic moment) and yet, I remain distant I walk the streets in solitude Because I have no compass, I have no grace, I am made from archaic stones and fragile memories (I am just a body bound for bliss in another strange bed: tangled bodies writhing, burning So close, Yet so alone) |