Saturday, 8 June 2013

Glass.

The beauty in the sunlight soothes.
 Everything else this morning is rain.
I brought a storm, I feel like a beast.
and now I wrap myself up in the warm breeze.
Breathing in blossom. My eyes ache.
A hand upon my shoulder would shatter the shadows
Holding me together so precariously.
"is it a relief?" Someone asks me later in the day.
There is no relief. It is only done.
I am singular.

But then. I always have been

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