My words break
their breaths, cough
down sleep winded
with the light of day.
They fear, they chafe
at songs; grit teeth gashing
into the wax of shadows
growing letters in my breast.
Creamy, pale prisoners
burn, cry out in grief
for the war I promised-
for the high heart
I swore them a siege.
So much to say, yet at a loss for words.
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Sunday, July 29, 2012
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