Thursday, August 17, 2006

Render

Stealth vacates the verdant wood
Leaving it to beetles and babies
Slow drips softly sounding
Those everlasting rotting leaves
And plentiful things that
Make wild noises

Stealth infuses the terminal city
We itch in great numbers
Scratching at the threads
Of the deep of the deep
Our old human wounds
We openly bleed
Feeble in a wee glimmer






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