Broken beats cracking
The ear drums,
If they didn’t miss
The junction
Round about the heart.
Woken sleeps that
Wait the slide
While thunder hoods the
Pitch with
Noise that quakes the eyes.
Sorrow skims the
Bootless calm
Of knees that let shins
Tinge with
Grief that hands won’t clean.
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Tags: insomnia, letter, night, poem, poetry, sleepless
This entry was posted on December 7, 2011 at 8:13 am and is filed under coping, night. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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