Monday, November 23, 2015

not enough light

I reach the heels of my fists to the heavens and
a rageful power takes hold of my wrists like a
puppeteer to sticks; the room takes on a charge,
and even dogs fled.

Anyone could feel the wave as deaf feel sound:
It's the moment after you should have bounced,
when it was imminent, when the hair'd already
stood up on end.

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