Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Witness

In the most ravenous parts of me
The fleshy wounded parts I want
To offer lips that don’t shout back
For and through I take bitter words
Salt the air before the entrance
When I fall heavy in places quieted
With unfamiliar rest the day presses
On my eyelids with force and grit
I have seen too much, I know more
Than they intended.

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