Saturday, June 17, 2017
Drowning Journal
You're writing a stanza
in a sigh
you're driving a fool out of walk
I'm a beast in a heart
an artist maybe
I suffocate angeled devil
in a world I'm a word
embodied in metaphoric silence
write me down on the inner flesh of your chest
or sing me with your lips
once I ventured west before sunset
stayed for an age night
pondered you bosom-ward
and so missed you tender
baby pile of beauty
you smile with rising sun
and sob with crying heaven
I know how far I have gone
I would have died
if it weren't your stirring letter
there's God's voice in drifting leaves
and your face in the nightfall constellations
and my name in your drowning journal
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