Wednesday 23 May 2012

Sleeping Bad

the world died
we waited, hands in knots, and
the sun turned black
in a cell stilling rush

we were gone

then we were back

muted shadows and muffled bones
under a semitone sun
and I asked does my consciousness
need this vessel

banausic conveyance for an
eternal immaterial
or is all I am lost
to bacterial digestion

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