Thursday, April 9, 2009

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It’s lunch again
more desperate than before
more drawn out than after
with eyes looking around me
eyes looking behind
what if I revealed myself
right now
right here
what if I stepped into the light
the storm
the skin of reflected water
that covers us all
I sometimes imagine
cracking my own chest
letting my heart breath
encircled by ribs reaching
out and up
like thin grey fingers
perhaps I’d hand each child
a stick
to play a song
upon them