Monday, June 14, 2010

St. Methodius I

there is a small voice

that seeps out from between

the sheet and the mattress

a wild call into the dark,

a request for much more light

than I can possibly give.

it tells me that there is a path

straight across this wheezing city

that leads to you.

there is something like Olympus

behind your teeth, in the darkness

that feels like home.

you spit out tonight

like a pit, strings of fruit

stuck in all the tight places

of your mouth.

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