Thursday, August 11, 2005

Heavy

A faded pastel moon
So vast, hovers overhead,
Light pushes straight down, soft and cold,
HEAVY.

I can’t think anymore
Raw thoughts, spicy red sushi, blood,
tears of air pop with hammerlike silence,
dead pale gold in those old, salty channels on my face,
Crusts of bone ice hammered thin under the pastel rain.

2 Comments:

Blogger Joe said...

Nice. Is this your own poem?

6:27 AM  
Blogger Balázsy András said...

Ya, it is.

8:26 AM  

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