Monday, April 14, 2014

Existence

Is it absurd, The music?
The music with a soft loudness
of years.

Your lips,
my gate of passion.

A day. The Day?
A forgotten permanence.

An act of passion;
confusion?

An event of defining governance.

The cradle of inevitability,
the incontrovertible moment of definition,
the definition of the inevitable.

I stare, confused, at my muse, the permanent.

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