Beautiful Blurs
Beautifully tainted
trance of transition
back and forth
of my identical identities.
A lover’s lack
of sexuality,
instinct stolen by time.
Dying poets possess
no potential to progress
into former flames
or fireflies, .
Trusted trysts
never to actualize,
only in suspicion
til I apologize
and crucify dreams.
I cannot dress
my sin in confession
and the question
of who deserves
my reborn innocence.
Blurred by words
of not knowing
what we feel
or who to be.
Confessions for Innocence
Quickly moving
through wasted days
as if the hours
had no worth,
gone in an oblivion,
lost until recollection
reemerges.
Years given
to try to make stone,
as easy as we make love,
instead pebbles thrown
into ponds
won’t skip in reflection.
She throws away the sun
til she wants it again
to burn
numbers that add
to truths
she doesn’t want to know,
solutions to problems
created in her mind’s
2006-12-26
03:37:50
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4 answers
·
asked by
Anonymous