knives

Flight is a thing I’ve never dreamed

Far too futile it’s ever seemed,

The loft of heaven lifts me not

Joys of the land I’ve not forgot

I stand on floors and sandy shores

Staring out to things untoward

The knives will fill my dreams

 

Kinesthetic memories wake as I walk

I judge the distance to a heart,

Or consider murderous trains of thought

And even if I cease to talk

Or my finger gives a sudden start

I try to forget what I’ve fought

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s