Tuesday, November 2, 1999

Spaces Between the Words

Laying beside
an injured angel
quivering with
self-hatred overdose
my silly fingers
walk themselves
in circles
and my speech
spins lamely into
itself as well
the ends swallowing beginnings
until they are the same thing,
and I realize that
I could probably
hum to her
and achieve the same effect;
I guess that
sometimes words are only sounds,
yet sounds can still carry messages
to those waiting
to receive them.


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