Thursday, April 14, 2016

home crashing in the waves
made of ramshackle wood
--splinter not shatter

words are the prophet
speak your soul to the wind
watch it flutter, form
to the canvas concave
injured and hollow of song

but i can write to fill
a constellation
lyric from star to star
breath lights the scattered scars
burn a hole through the night
until darkness unravels
like a thread

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