Friday, February 21, 2014

some sort of recovery

it's the way your lips look
as if grasping for a cigarette
it's your crushing eyes
that bury me in symbols
hiding words that won't explain

it's your shedding skin against grey sky
as i watch the light fade
it's your fingertip touch
that rushes me to ruin
fighting back years

each breath pushes cancer into my atmosphere.


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