10-01-2012, 04:54 AM
I never told you about the vulture
that cut the sun in half the day we met;
its shadow paved my honest path
and I, with cracked feet and arid eyes,
blindly followed.
Did I mention the nine crows
that perch, sleep and dream of swimming
on the valley's ascending power-lines
with the deep hum of late night television
soothing through their toes?
I will tell your absent ears of the nights
spent picking blood from beneath my nails,
t-shirts drenched in the souls of innocents
granted by empty bottles under boughs
of perched vultures
that are not willing to fly for me, again
and how the crows are always there.
that cut the sun in half the day we met;
its shadow paved my honest path
and I, with cracked feet and arid eyes,
blindly followed.
Did I mention the nine crows
that perch, sleep and dream of swimming
on the valley's ascending power-lines
with the deep hum of late night television
soothing through their toes?
I will tell your absent ears of the nights
spent picking blood from beneath my nails,
t-shirts drenched in the souls of innocents
granted by empty bottles under boughs
of perched vultures
that are not willing to fly for me, again
and how the crows are always there.
If I say nothing, it could be because I have nothing to say. I won't tell you this.