Sunday, April 19, 2009

I want to stop carrying, for long blue hours at an end, this water balloon of thoughts, which tremble at the slightest convulsion, which break in the stillness of the heat, the fan whirring and whisking the restless fatigue sticking stubbornly to the night; thoughts which break without warning, like a sudden miscarriage, like a single gunshot, blood running down the temple and eyelid, blink blink blank blink, blood running down one leg.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

hearts faith.
hearts many.