Saturday, June 2, 2012

Gun Shy Sunrise

Biting onto a fringe of lunacy 
and eating a servant's heart 
I kicked out a dozen chairs 
from under whispering demons. 
I was married to the wicked 
in front of a gun shy sunrise. 
Windows watched and widows broke 
in bathing silhouettes when the wedding 
bells yelled and it only sounded 
like a tribal chant of burn everything 
and bury everyone like I know.
Just like the ones before, I was me 
in partials like a boat in a pool. 

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