Wednesday, August 1, 2012

a stoppage


the mountain
intense paths 


dead angels

the uncooked air

down the slippery rock

a lifelike crumble

at the bottom of the abyss our minds

on brimstone

a yet rising wind

our sight and

a new way forward where our descent

when every crack in every canyon wall

up with light

our bodies’ systemic calories

remains of whatnot while the soul of things


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