Sunday, November 18, 2012

Miasma

I drown in it
Inhale all of it
Sweat down to my legs
I'm down in dregs
Of this "feeling"
In my chest
The mist is healing
the center of my breast
wrapped in a widows grasp
clutched to my hair the fingers clasp
and I gasp
The fog has me
in my bedfellows eyes I see what we
could be
should be
Need to be
Hope to flee
from the pale blue permafrost
Escape to the mist
No matter what the cost
Hold the smoke tight
Don't slip
Please hold on to my grip
Can't survive out of the mist
with the sweat dripping bliss I'm lost.

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