beautiful
never crashed so.
hard.
As it did when
every star lost its grip
on reality
and dripped to
ignite the soil.
and the broken glass
lit fire to strings
of reason. built like
constellations.
timid. and the songs
about truth
broke the silence.
I can remember those
nights--my silhouette
dancing
without me. you.
pausing time to show me
each second in
painstaking
detail.
then you would break clocks.
second hand faults
and a bottom lip like
redemption.
I was too scared
to stop.
that beautiful
des.truc.tion
calling us
its own.
© 2008 spitting ink
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/15935/107125 on Friday January 09th, 2009 04:12 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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