The Nature of Static.

And here amidst

the ticking and

sticking of time,

I work to fill the spaces,

the pauses in speech,

and gaps left sparse; the

discord flowing over

the continental divide.

Even wrapped

in the thick down

padding of your words

I am left but empty.

Solitude pervades

even the gentle

lilt and rhythm

of your speeches.

And so with my words

spilled out upon

your bathroom tile

tied one by one with floss,

I strike the first blow,

so clean and clear, it is

brilliant in its simplicity.

I aim for the heart.


~ by wordthief on October 28, 2008.

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