Open Poetry #45 |
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Not So Fleeting |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
And the pitcher still runs dry, I never feel my feet touch the ground Touch something whole, around a fleet of hair and the memories still fly. Wake me in the night With my mouth Dry, And it's 2:30, with the night alive Like my saliva's sweat on the crinkled shirt that posts to my abdomen, And I fall back again, To a day that never seems awake. |
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© Copyright 2009 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
Wow, this is a tricky one... to a day that never seems awake. I need to think on that, but I honestly enjoyed reading your poem. |
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