While the knots of 5 rubber throats are calling to me
my life rushed forward like a piston
forceful, unerring.
Time surges me before it
and
the wash of comfort
as I get down
into the heart’s even tempo:
the world recedes
twinkling lights and city echoes
fading back
leaving me in warmth
of the emptiness
around me.
My hands are lead
eyelids sliding down
and in the background
the insistent scrape
of a soupspoon
digging my grave.
~ for Shannon
© 2011 Hakim - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: use without profit allowed only with author’s express written permission. Please don't wake up my attorney. Please.
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