Saturday, March 27, 2010

day 248: perfection.

i spent the morning writing poetry to the horizon
i kissed the clouds with my pen
waiting for some sort of inspiration
this afternoon
im sleeping in Sabbath
tucked away in solace
my cave is warm 2 seasons out of the year
too hot for some
but my skin has become tough in this climate
ready for its abuse
the only scars i wear tell stories i'm not ready to share
so i cover my skin with poetry
dirty similes look beautiful at a distance
and this pain
taste like candy
like her lips
like her fingertips
we are all just too perfect to even notice

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