Panic

January 25, 2014

 

I live in the darkness of light

I live in the still of the wind

In the blindness of sight

In the hush of birdsong

In the sere of the rain . . .

There is pain

 

I live at the bottom of breast

I live on the slope of the hip

In the crack of the kiss

In the numbness of touch

(In the sere of the rain) . . .

There is pain there is pain

 

I live in the void of the moon

I live in the softness of stones

In the flightness of wings

In the breath of dead leaves

(In the sere of the rain) . . .

There is pain there is pain there is pain

 

I live in the heat of the ice

I live in the waking of sleep

In the salt of spring flowers

In the perfume of blight

In the space of time

In the time of space

In the walk of the race

(In the sere of the rain) . . .

There is pain there is pain there is pain there is pain

 

I live in the darkness of light

I live in the still of

In the blindness

In the hush

The sere:

 

There

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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