Saturday, August 17, 2013

Wrapped in the Throbbing of Your Soul


The moon watches you swim
Naked in the illegible sea the indelible
Source of language breaking asunder
Smashing on this ragged shore
A singular design garbled into gibberish
The oldest sound of speech
The most ancient of parsimonious phonetics
The first lie O let the chaos roar 
And follow the moon 
No words left to say
No inscriptions etched in sand 
O follow the moon off this beach 
Wander amid unwritten trees
The precise elisions the forgotten vowels
Here where locutions tremble and fall
Where the sway of whispered labials
Lulls you asleep 

Author Reading 

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