"The desert bears only a scathing sun, and nothing more."
"What about mirages?"

Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Krash.

Serene, calm with Regal Posture.
Not quite as Graceful.
an Intellect, and Understanding
that reaches farther than
the Clouds that
cried Jagged White Dancers
in March.
Could never grasp,
what you saw in me.
Could never give up
the Friendship you've
Gifted Me.
like Toppling Ladders.
like being Razorblade Beautiful.
like Grace that goes Awry.
who has Always
been There for me.

* * *

This is a poem I wrote for a really good friend of mine. She means the world to me. Many of the references in the poem only she will understand, but nonetheless, one of my favorites.

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"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."