Monday, April 25, 2011

Live Free

Paint lines blurring by
Though crawling is all we're doing.

Set in, fatigue, set in
So I don't have to disguise the isolation.

'Catch for us the foxes,' he says.
But what shall I do if foxes are all I've got?

Breathe on me, Spirit. Breathe,
For my lungs can't take the pressure.

Let today be another Pentecost
and tomorrow be the Eschaton.

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