Thursday 18 September 2008

Feather


It seems that would I fall on my back I would fall through the earth,
As if it were sky,
The dirt and rock and metal would be just wind to me,
Pressing my clothes against my skin,
Stretching my skin taught.
My eyes would be carelessly closed,
Sound would be somewhere else, dull and distant.
And I would be waiting and waiting,
Waiting,
To be caught.

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