DoubleSpeak

Dust storm in NSW
Image by DabaYu via Flickr

In the mist of mistakes lies trimuph.
When optimism is all I have left to risk
giving way to hopes of a juniper night:
Holding you again. Wanting something
I can’t have whole. I struggle in pieces…

I started drinking my desires away around 4:00 p.m.
It didn’t help the crying, as my shoulders, drunken 
they weigh the hours and the minutes of this drought
silently anticipates seeing your golden eyes again
expectation wants nothing more than your kisses now.

Vulnerable to prays when I might be an atheist.
Prays for things out of my control, I meditate a howl
that is so quiet, but roars your name. Underneath bellows
relinquishing all the burdens of my travel through the fire.

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