Thursday, March 4, 2010

static grief

the walls wouldn't recognize you
my eyes wouldn't recognize you
and the dog would think you're a stranger
your footprints have been cleared
every last top note of your aftershave
has drifted out the windows
i see your etchings sometimes
on scraps that haven't been incinerated yet
and when i blink
hard pressed graphite that carved
with efficiency melted into dread
your imprint is gone now
but when i look down the mirrored hall
i still bargain with the heavens
to see you standing in front of me


  1. thanks for sharing
    love the blog, keep it up