Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Without the advice

Without the advice (I need)
I speak out (of turn)
but now
I bite my tongue (until it burns)
And turn around to find you gone
A long way off resting on the horizons of yesterday.
Gone from view are your face and body
Taking with you my mind and heart.

Adopted in a determined self-rescue
I slap on a ne’er care fa├žade

Feeble but fresh,
Forced and frantic

Upwardly mobile in appearance while flat on my back
Bare naked except for the sleeve for my heart.
Under a quilt tacked together with a stitch here and there
Letting escape a view while retaining enough heat for me.

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