Sunday, September 14, 2008

...

there is no respite here,
crouched in the shadow of your words,
afraid to read ahead,
fearing the future,
actions imitate words,
reality thoughts,

mind read,
and read again,
dog-eared,
tattered,
bent, and
yellow,

thoughts captured,
in black and white banality,
some gray,
abundant red,
mocked,
discarded

and i sit here,
with the faint ringing of the distant bell,
foretelling, foreboding,
preserving, persevering,
this reality,
this fantasy,

this fantastic reality.

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