Wednesday, September 23, 2009


I have stricken this from a dream,
Evicted it.

And yet
It sticks with me.

In the sheer walls of rain
Where I once begged you to beg me to stop,
The clock slowing
The water building behind the glass

That's where. You leave it,
But it doesn't go away.

It's elsewhere, soaked and delirious.

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