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Asphasia

May 24, 2013

sixtyfive

Slit my throat or send me down the line.
I’m an animal.
An angel prototype.
Slipping in and out of time.
I can’t bare this silence.
Knife at throat at heart at groin.

I dissected every line.
Drew a circle made of stones.
Threw your bones against the sky.
And read the way they fell.
I’ve a memory like a hook in the jaw.
I’ve nothing else.
Hurts a little less.
Hurts a little more.
Selene eats the ocean.
Proteus eats the shore.
I sleep amongst the Titans.
Far beyond the prayers of men.
Worshiped, nevermore.

I’ve been laying in a bed of sand.
Behind the sky.
Before the land.
And the pressure there has pulled apart.
The pieces of my screaming heart.
Searched for your name within the library.
Searched for your fire amongst the dark.
Don’t think I don’t know you love me.
Don’t think to drown it in the sea.
Down here I feel the things that fall
I would dredge the ocean, drag it to the surface.
Wrapped in its caul, pale and weeping.
You whispered it whilst you were sleeping.
“I love you”.
And then you spoke my name.
Before the dawn, I watched your hair upon the pillow.
But I never mentioned it at all.

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From → Poetry

One Comment
  1. hitting your stride with this one—congrats!

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