Thursday, October 27, 2005

Thursday Morning

(some fragments/rewrites…)

(fragment:)

Happiness is something you can tell yourself
and be understood.


(work in progress:)

Mirrored

When I see my fire painted
in another’s creation

I cannot hope to contain it
through an act of repression.

My own soul has just been mirrored
with an artist’s precision.

I could call this girl my mother,
I could call this man my son.

I could blow through open windows,
I could pop like bubblegum.

I can see a tower rising
I can hear the church bells sound like
dum dum dum dumdadum dum
dum dum dum dumdadum dum

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