Wednesday, April 10, 2013


Catch yourself,
He says, these thoughts come too fast—
Firing flashes of fury
Dots hazily scurrying
Mindless fall from grace,
Brain waves never win this race
Cannot outpace
Their other selves,
Trying to outwork like Santa’s little elves after Christmas,
Forgotten, the point is that they’re gone, replaceable,
Logic hardly ever traceable
Affect always erasable
With recognition,
A sliver of remembrance
Breaks his trance,
Breath fills the lungs, not by chance,
At last, the body is free to dance.

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