Friday, April 11, 2014

The Answers Serve Her Anguish

Where the wind laid calm 
and catholic as kids, 
evolved into a water spout 
that tossed our plans 
into a decade of dark waters. 
Once the air came clean, 
so we followed 
and still found less hope 
than magic. She only needed 
a hand and mine were 
filthy; I was no savior. 

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