Tuesday, April 27, 2010

On the Day After the Day of My Failure

Monochrome the message in her eyes,
And distant the datum in my heart
As that particular part of us
Shriveled like tinfoil in the camp fire
We vowed we’d keep burning until death.
Later, turning and sifting the ash
Drifting eastward on the drowsy breeze,
We avoided touch, and even words
Lay as useless as love on our tongues.

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