patience of the faithful by A.M. Demarcoi want this thing out of me
this part of me, this hunger that never gets sated
and thusly the urge surfaces
to run away and sit
mountainside, quiet and tranquil
people would come and go
and there i would sit, selfless
connected equally to each of the ten thousand directions
woven through the fabric of it all
id never find myself alone again
so i breathe and wait for my communion with the flux.
as for this moment, my time is still counted
metallic gears still have sharp edges
and my skin still yields to their steel
08/10/2008 Posted on 08/11/2008 Copyright © 2025 A.M. Demarco
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