Friday 25 February 2011

Vent

Awaiting
Morning
Greeting
Your whites

We search
Find nothing
Not knowing
We hide

Tempted
Touching
Amazed by
Our cries

Slow creeping
Pressing
Lazily
We drive

The motor
The trembling
Vibrating
I climb

Slide downward
Still inching
Smothering
Your smile

Breaking
The craving
The rising
Subsides

The night
Now passing
We're living
We lie

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