Post date: May 20, 2009 6:20:23 PM

gone, remembered incompletely

like the reflection

on a broken window

seems cold, so pointed

yet invalid, immovable

and already

past the point where none

can be re-placed

by shimmery rectangles

fit in frames, the shards

go unswept

on a rugless plane


no blood, only breath

brittle as the glass.

sometimes its those

unconnected pieces

that shine most bright

like you should put one

in your pocket to keep.

but that's dangerous

and we all know it

is those who don't

kill themselves on the breaking

of it all.

music, if pieces all hung

suspended, wind chimes

fractile figures, spinning

weights and measures

geometry like constellations.

from other angles

look otherwise

galaxies away

the hunter is a lover

the dragon is a wreath

and beauty is often not.