Friday, November 06, 2009


out the window a field of glowing bulbs

I blur my eyes and they expand and stain 

leaving bright rings 

clusters of warm.

this deep into night they are comforting.

old words tickle my finger tips.

they are so rich

they make my stomach hurt.

i collect them and keep them in a box.

now i find it hard to breath,

my heart is so swollen.

it gets softer with age and glows when I blur my eyes.

maybe it's a sun.

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