Tuesday, November 8, 2011


I had two hundred days to send you away.
The one I love gathered a phrase
from Euphrates.
The steamroller squeezed all emotion
out of me as if I were
about thousand times more brilliant
then any random shade of pink.
I sounded a horn
that sparkled the scorn
of breaking glass
a shrill laugh.
Hour passed noon,
two hours passed gloom,
and what will you finally
have to say to me?

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