Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 5, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

06-05-05 sunday 9:20pm

doesn't it always resolve back to what it was. but you couldn't admit.

lighting up the night with the burning of.

quickly doused by.

cold because they say i am. the mortar dries. those bricks stack.

while behind the walls a child cries. lonely and stranded.

the ink runs through and finds its place. in characters just below the skin. like every needle does. every person. injects an image of themselves into.

too permanent are memories. are their faces.

like the veins that run beneath. so near and yet i can't reach them.