Friday, January 2, 2009

when i sit up late

(yellow lights...
i me mine... all through the night, i me mine i me mine i me mine
i don't want to wake up)

i want to escape to a place
beaten by the wind
somewhere near the roof of the earth
above the confines of my cares.

from where i will watch a glimpse of a realm
not of mine.
bouncing river,
a cataract of evening sun,
caught in the sleeve of a cloud.

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