Monday, November 16, 2009

the clock binds me
the second hand taunting
tamberines sting to bleed

waiting for a mystery that is no mystery
staring at words that make no sense
like a crossword puzzle gone wrong

a dark room carved into a well
the sounds of echos from my chest
like a drum
hoping for an indian ritual
tears wither it away, so i can no longer rest and lay.

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