Where Ideas go to be Self-Published and then die

Monday, November 23, 2009

Fragment

Since I'm posting everything I've worked on since October out of guilt for not posting anything since then, I might as well add this to the mix.

[untitled]

Let him sleep.
You, lying next
to a breathing,
living thing.
Sweat confusion of
his body heat.

Stare at the clock.
Time is a mouth,
chewing everything
down to mere minutes.

Or take off your
glasses and close
your eyes until time
passing becomes a
feeling that sounds
like sighing.

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