Friday, July 31, 2009

(making?) sense

see
the passing beauty of eternity
in its cracked mirrored perfection.
feel
the gossamer stare of anonymity
lurking around every corner.
hear
the echo of this moment
in the shadow of the past.
savor
the aftertaste of Denver
in the back of my throat.
smell
the things that never were in
the redolence of the morning after.

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