Monday, March 26, 2012

Missing Gazebo

siege of
ghosts

where the brush ends
voices begin

and i am in limbo

my life on hold

a chemical haze
of the iris

and my organs are sand
in an etch-a-sketch world
gone vertical

a street lamp
that flickers
and deserts me

polaris
swallowed by clouds

and me

where a gazebo
used to be

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