12 February 2013

revolution rising

the windows are closed, my breath taut with wanting and warm against the glass
where liquid desire meets the frigid february air
and my eyes turn in on themselves in search of nameless things

the clamor beats against the walls inside my mind, the revolution rising
in the lull between words and the silences of your absence
and my fingers fumble restless for nothing at all

i have been sleeping for far too long and only now awoken

afraid of the pain gnawing after me, i had forgotten
about the promise you drew from my tired lips
in the excitement of summer haze and crackling fires

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