Sunday, July 22, 2012

Little Devil

I cling to the cusp of transformation - the brink of something
new. And there's a devil deep inside me that pushes its way
through my lips, my hands, my hips, my thighs. I love, I give,
I get closer to One - So high in the clouds, this must be
you. But in the morning I wake, hungover from exposure,
with emptiness in hand, and loneliness in heart.
Soon from the depths, the devil is
renewed, and the clawing begins at the start.

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