deepundergroundpoetry.com

Final Fight

After a night of last-ditch effort,
day breaks like a hammer, the sun
 
a fast, fat mandala,
rising through the pink mist.
 
Drained, we lay bare
our private intentions,
 
too tired to fix anything, everything
broken, terrifying and glittering.
 
We sit in stunned silence.
Together, at that moment,
 
dazed by our lavish failure,
we could almost be friends.


*Note:  This poem also appears in Red Fez 4/12
http://www.redfez.net/poetry/1568
Written by pyrategurrll (Lauren Tivey)
Published | Edited 14th Apr 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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