Thursday, April 21, 2016

September 9th, 2010

i walked all morning
just skipping stones
little stepping stones
littering the flood plain
empty of now
full of yesterday

     ...the bottle of whiskey...

it didn't take long to reimburse myself
to submerge
floating in the bends
     the crook of her arm
     a sudden urge to run
     no longer with the legs to do it

why do they haunt me?

atrophied in the sympathy
of devils

their angelic ancestry

out of breath
at the edge of every drink

the winds shift
shuffle the cards
it makes me restless
and so i rarely sleep
without an empty bottle.

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