Monday, December 26, 2011

Forgiving Withered Lines of Rain on an Ink Page

Meet me in a busy city, in a place where
We can exchange glances and commiserate distance
Through our glass of fog behind the hours
That pine the day of their shortcomings;
Sunlight pooling yellow
Casting imperfections that trace your face
Reveal a tired resilience
Painted in a baroque elegance;
From our liquid centre of folded ties
A broken silence and mirror,
Forget everything else and say it to me as a friend;
Withered hair, frayed like a furrowed brow still,
Growing into ourselves furthering from significance
We carefully treasure meaning with ruined handshakes;
Tired, life ushered with indifference,
Turning realism into vacancy
Shattering forgiveness, we polish and heave ourselves into slanted lines of gratefulness.

{Written by: Andrea Currie}

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