deepundergroundpoetry.com
Walk 6
I'm tired
of walking into infernos,
of spirit aching,
of rain
and wind on the estuary
and foiling my escape.
I want to be a dragon,
to scratch out the moon,
to bleed wounds dry
as leeches from back along,
way back when.
And then maybe I'll sing for summer
as if I never broke a heart,
my own or otherwise,
as if I never lost my goodness
between reeds, trees and islands
as if a book could save a brain
and love could save a marriage,
as if any of us really
leave our childhoods behind.
of walking into infernos,
of spirit aching,
of rain
and wind on the estuary
and foiling my escape.
I want to be a dragon,
to scratch out the moon,
to bleed wounds dry
as leeches from back along,
way back when.
And then maybe I'll sing for summer
as if I never broke a heart,
my own or otherwise,
as if I never lost my goodness
between reeds, trees and islands
as if a book could save a brain
and love could save a marriage,
as if any of us really
leave our childhoods behind.
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