Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Lifer

Just listen at your
center for and
if the whir there
comforts drift
upon thought.

Small compasses
we were as if
but then catch
seeming shadows
above else.

Enormous burn
upon waves we
sift blisters as if
life were unnoticed.

Perception’s nexus
ices my afternoons
with more questions.

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