Friday, May 14, 2010

The Invention of Time Travel

That day the shore will break on the waves
And the clouds will be filled with sky.
Rain will rise from the soggy soil,
Which will slowly begin to dry.
Tears will climb jilted lovers’ cheeks,
Carrying betrayals on their silver backs,
And the aged will rise from their chairs
And run outside to watch the falling sun.
Smoke will vanish into the stacks,
As all cars back into their garages.
Passion will decelerate from orgasm,
The spasm easing into the foreplay,
Bodies slowly pulling themselves apart.

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