Friday, February 3, 2012

Secondhand Sand

Given months, years pass
The cleaning is never finished
Brake lights confuse
A mind isolated with death
Amends to mend yarn bridges
Tears to douse crossing flames
Prayer becomes the cure
A positive patsy for luck
Motions set in ink
Stones chosen wisely
Embrace for the hour
Tucked away under
Dreams and borrowed time

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