Sunday, July 22, 2012

but clever words on pages turn to fragments, circles, points and lines

He made the world a grassy road before our bare wandering feet.


Come quick, You Light that knows no evening...
come, alone to the alone! 

There are a thousand half-smiles 
well worth leaving for to take your madness home, 
And You dance inside my chest


She's like a hot cloth on a fevered head
And like a needle she leads me
Well, I follow like thread
And now I haven't even thought about
Killing myself in almost five months.

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