5.20.2004

Severing Pieces

I, like a lower case cross,
Burn in the midnight
I created myself
And I tell you
I didn’t think it
Would lead to this.
But how was I
To know? The weather
Comes and goes
And we will simply
Sit on the hard
Concrete and whisper
Of the days that
Go and come, charged
With the feelings
A single eye can
Sear into eternity
Like words jumping
Out of our stars
In the sky
And settling down
In our laps
To lick at our faces.
But stars are just
The death of our
Quivering voices, filled
With the tug
Of meanings we attribute
To things and people
And places and the conjunction
Of those things
With the leaving of them.

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