because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse

untitled

a bone-wrenching hollowness
sucks all coherency from my worlds,
blows through and over me in gravel
on monochrome knees, jags pushing
blood to my palms and fingernails, the color
gone from my heart, my face, cold;
like hers.

4 responses

  1. hmmmmm

    May 30, 2009 at 1:30 am

  2. Ah yes, so final even within ourselves, never the same again

    May 31, 2009 at 11:01 pm

  3. stopped my breath for a second.

    thanks, maxine. i could ask for no more.
    –jsl

    June 1, 2009 at 12:59 am

  4. I love this, I love all your stuff….
    Makes me wonder how I can call myself a poet..But then I remember, for every song, there is a voice.

    June 8, 2009 at 6:58 pm

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