Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Inspiration

With wine,
everything is a poem,
loose emotions felt.

Words shed morality,
dance naked,
slap the silent air,
the space between.

And every comma
is performance,
a monumental event.

Though I spin
in the maelstrom,
voyager between
the unrepentant seas
of pronoun,
verb and tense.

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