Monday, August 17, 2009


Oh you with my heart
attached to your arm do not
lift the weight of air in your
tattered flare. Your gorgeous
ropes have tethered to the pump
and the gauges are all broken
and freckled with moot. Oh
all you with my heart once given
the tempest of this resists
what can not be given back
I am still there with you
this organ of my blood
simple and slow it seems
to move from one to another
taking what passes for now
is done what's done.


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