Saturday, August 14, 2004

Of wings and water

Beauty.
Everytime I see you,
you take me apart;
disassemble the gears
wrapped with meat and bone;
inject me with doubt and hesitation;
and
disarm me with a vulnerability
no other can master.

But beauty.
This is not the bone
I need to pick with you.
The truth is,
the higher you take me,
the farther I fall.

And while you keep
giving me wings,
I am still dead in the water
and
I drown
by the very thing
that gives me flight.


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