7/9/14

How's all that space

winds on the flowers
pacing across axeblade petals
Poisoned curves
The metal stretch
of an indecisive creature
falling into it's own clouds

When so many strides
imagine themselves
into nothing

When so many straights
remind me of something
the sun like a runny egg
the rock like a broken plate

When the rockets all know
where heaven meant to be

Now up and up and up
Now racing spinning
Holding it all
In the very lack of matter
The dropoff of those things
That never mattered
It doesn't matter
flowers in her hair
The air
It's crisp
fit to leave the surface of the earth
Just right
to take distance
all I need is lift

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