ten twelve

Eyes
Tired like sand
Thin cut
Paper
Bleeds
Momentarily
like
Zen
Words
Blank
Circle

Think
Dream

space
Monk-like
Spellbound ten
Ten twelve pm in
The rock garden

A
plant
On fire
Burning Time
a Flame in
the dark the
dark dark night

Now
is the Time.

This entry was published on 02.23.12 at 6:16 am. It’s filed under journal entry, poetry, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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