Wednesday, April 25, 2012

don't matter


i share my matter with someone
that really matters. Kinetic specks or
lightning bugs, neon reminders
of everything I’ve never done.

these dirty hands are
clean somewhere
this quiet peace contains all the noise
i’ll never hear

weaving threads to
woven threadpoints
thin is thicker
broken lines grow forever
through gritted teeth or
twisted smiles
i take up space
on these crossing wires and
blip
when it’s my turn

No comments:

Post a Comment