Sunday, July 3, 2011

Cradle Song

My lullaby is the emptiness
the way that there is no one between the floor and the ceiling
the dart throw of solitude

a raspy voice that whispers
"you are alone"
to the quiet

the hand that is not around my waist
the lips that do not kiss me awake in the mornings

a locked door
two
three
locked doors

a twin bed with dirty sheets

eyes that say
it is the evening
you best be going
now

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