Thursday, February 5, 2009

Thursday Night Nowhere Poem

don't bother to knock
or try the lock
i don't hear you
i don't answer

i rub my eyes like a child
too tired to know
or say so and then
the head to the ground

you spin my words
you make them into something
new, or foreign
something that scares me

i try to make up for lost time
leave you notes
clues
quiet manipulations

but we pass each other
without touching
even when the walls
come marching in.

ksaint

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