Sunday, February 27, 2011

Quick Death

That moment
Slipped like rain down my skin
Washed me in late February change
Mangled more than just my hair

And you, were standing there
Such an odd thing
Like I had plucked you from a dream
And planted you here in front of me
There was no script for that scene
Line, please
Line, please
LINE, PLEASE!

I had to check— more than once— the pace of my heart
To ensure it would not speed out of my chest
Like a reckless teenager
One who crashes cars 
And left these scars upon me

I needed desperately to make the moment real
Needed some proof of it 
Something to feel so I could be sure
But I was too afraid to pause 
Too afraid the claws of it would rip me apart

So when it cornered me
With clenched teeth, I waited timidly
But that moment simply passed
Like a long breath,
A quick death

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