Sunday, November 07, 2010

Beneath the Blue

My eyelids burn,
the well of a thousand
undropped

tears awaiting the moment
when spill into darkness
can contain the secrets

in some old rugged rock,
some hand-hewn vessel
readied for the drought,

protected from the chill,
small bucket hanging
from worn thread

ready to be tossed
down to quench
a thirst which seems

insatiable.

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