Friday, November 18, 2005

here i am, stalled

with a bottle, empty and dangling from finger tips
the way the sunrise replays itself
begins to hurt my eyes
and my muscles like a burning

I recall phoenix
and all that meant
but dust is like sand
the way it behaves as it falls through hands
and it doesn't seem to be leaving any feathers

what are critical mass and escape velocity?
...this time around

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