Friday, April 8, 2011

Day 629: bruised

Born crimsons son's
burning brown into sunrise
mothers and their tongues
beaten into the background
the foreground is a mistake
misplaced measures
make tomorroe
for the better
or worse
we stand on someone shoulders
our souls stopping their fire

my mother was born a gypsi
they hung her
beads on lady liberty
your father a shy man
had no bruises
in his bones

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