Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Tango de la Materia, No. 58

Strange to time lines us for moments

All the raw vibrancy flutters gone

When I come home in the rain of emotions

Blissfully discordant

The taste of God on my tongue

Might forge a rapid dissonance

If only utter the thoughts

But rather stand in good faith

On precipice distraught

For the moment to come

When the thought echoes naught

And the character stands tested time

Falling off

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