happiest hours
by anonymous

Do you see the emptiness in me?
death brings the light, its no longer night
it's broken in a million places
and poets alway weep
because the others aren't blessed
here in our round to send me these
into the hands of dusky boys
And ballet dancers
working against time
.
So this is permanent
so we won't be unified
nibbling within the cupboards
of lost tomorrows
What she held in that palm
dry, chapped, we stare at it
sniffing out newness

Written April 25, 2001, 3:33 am
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