5.11.09

A Proud Night

Plunged straight into the black sea,
Like the beak of a bird pressed deep into its pouting chest,
So driven in the thick,
That to see is a feat suspended in clouds of fog.

Where success is measured in breathes,
And a long night seems inevitable.





















A Normal Forest

Here I am,
Its not where I started,
I can't say when that was,
Or even a location.

I could put myself in green,
In leafy woods,
Backtracking where I've been,
Recalling stories withstood.

In honesty,
There are no trees,
Not even sun rays,
None that I can see.

But here I am,
Content in a room,
On a street,
Leaving soon.

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