Monday, March 21, 2011

Void aperitif.

A known path in times before
Now little sense of beyond
Yet desire for feeling the
Touch of a branch
Tickle
Of a blade


Stepping in
Or stepping out
Hold this hand of mine
If you walk through
I will go
too


But the air is thick
Black
Powdery
It circles us closer
Then breaks us
apart


And the truth
We have reached
The void

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