Friday, January 21, 2005

poem : prophesy


the earth is in upheaval, searching for a way to speak
we don’t help the dialogue sitting together even refusing glances

if our love were a house,
the windows without horizons,
we would survive, teetering
on the cliff we wake up to each morning,

we huddle together against the inevitable
the ground beneath us
taking our tongues – things we took for granted

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