Wednesday, February 12, 2014

A Micropoem Triptych

It is what it isn't

Space. The final frontier.
The whole is defined by its emptiness.

Poetry and Spoken Word may in fact be different things ...
... As are Communion wafer and a hot fudge chocolate sundae ...
... wearing all of its toppings.

Self Inflicted

The Beauty passing on the beach
begets exquisite agony.

A pain so real it takes my breath away.

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