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June 29, 2013


I’ll save you.
From the things you can’t see.
Bitten, raped and bought.
The Power of Three.
The boxer, the joker, the bard and the lea.
I never achieved what was promised.
Tried too hard to believe that they’d care.
Don’t you see?
I’m the guardian of flowers.
The Word and the conductor of air.
It is you.
My beautiful leper.
You give me shelter from the wheel that would break me.
But I must protect you.
A book written by tyrants.
Invented for governance of the pure heart of thee.
Extant lizards commanding.
The fruit that you pick from the tree.
Drink the dregs of your cup.
And come to my room.
I’ve the thread of your conscience.
Hanging loose on my loom.


From → Poetry

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