we held darkness like swords
free from our wounded scabbards
and we wail and tear the air
the ringing vow of cold steel
reverberating over and over like a tuning fork
humming an endless elegy
with blind swishes of lightless force
and eloquent war cries
positioned to strike on heels and unprotected tendons
we hope to hit each other, perhaps
a gash would let April gush out reddish
promises,
and keep salt from filling our veins
we have stabbed eternity and grilled
them to charred perfection of bittersweet
bite-sized brutality
till we no longer feel like gods
but mortals eager to be meddled.
April 12, 2009
4.34 AM
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