Thursday, December 21, 2006

messes of men

"I do not exist,"
we faithfully insist
sailing in our separate ships,
and in each tiny caravel -
tiring of trying, there's a necessary dying
like the horseshoe crab in its proper sea can shed its shell
such distance from our friends,
like a scratch across a lens,
made everything look wrong from anywhere we stood
and our paper blew away before we'd left the bay
so half-blind we wrote these songs on sheets of salty wood.

~mewithoutYou

3 comments:

a u d r e y said...

oh man i love this. i love that you have a blogger!! sweeeeeet. now i can read read read a bunch of stuff!! :) you're adorable.

a u d r e y said...

is it bad that im already checking this every day to see if you have written more? you have me itchin to write.

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