Friday, July 29, 2011

ends of our past

If rain falling in careless emergency,
can return to enfolding clouds,
If wings could be grown back
 like lizard tails,
jettisoning failures mutilating,
I'll drift and drift,
and drown my tears, vanishing
in your impassive sea,
I'll fly and fly
to the ends of our past
and start again
from those retreating dreams

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