even me,
in the brilliant
light,
a half smile contrast
in the breeze
of my own making,

still i am burning
and plundered,
still delicate lift
takes me into the air
on the current
of updraft
like wasp wings
and other flammable things.

even me,
in this icy stillness
collapsing
like sections of lung,
and the fly-ash that
i breathe in
is the knowing
of my communion with none.

09/24/2011

Posted on 09/25/2011
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