I am stilled in tongues, stopped
like a grabbed clapper.
The emptiness rings between my teeth,
pealing away into an oily well.
A solid well, constructed from a year of grit.
There may have been clean nests of
delicate comment once but I
have lost the air of remembrance.
All the entrances and exits were
silted up with coarse despair
when I began to wander in the wishpool
my ankles cooling for too long.
You cannot lose your heat
without extinguishing your fire.
Look over your shoulder for the hustle of words.
Friday, July 4, 2008
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