Tuesday, December 1, 2015

consequential

time drags provincial

dust motes in the air dance sunlit songs

aeons pass
in the gaps between
your words
in the gaps between
ourselves

hidden in the couch
change
consequential
for which
calloused fingers dig

unable to melt
in a moment of content

they must search for the prize
and pull apart the peace
piece by piece

not even waiting for the end of the song 

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