with little tongues of fevered flames.
You know,
the serpent pushes past the lips,
opening and closing with another hiss,
biting down at the core of a word that struggles
to try to get past the raw afterbirth of crushed apple.
Accidents happen,
and it was no exception,
to the same patterns sewn together
into a quilt of stories.
----------- August 13th, 2002
Attrition
---------
The dark circles form targets around the eyes.
A punch drunk night hitting hard
on all the exposed vulnerable spots,
the shadows boxing at the bared surfaces
of a sleepless unconsciousness.
There are no real answers to any usual questions,
and the only facts remain a kind of attrition,
as to what was loved.
---------------------
Blinding
--------
The explosion was a slow motion burst into long months of shrapnel, Similarities,
her likenesses,
broken off,
Disconnected,
from the familiar image,
their differing flung,
into the retinas,
blinding as certainly as a red hot iron
plunged into the remaining white emptiness
of wishing to see.
------------------
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