martes, 13 de mayo de 2008

rotten spring

i threw my glance out of the window
the air was longing for an idle, late spring
as its ashy thickness was hardly hollowed out by the aerials

you were not in the spot you should've been
there was no one there
as the iced heavy drops started to water my eyes

like thousand others before
this never-coming spring keeps my hands reaching out
to grasp the ever rotten, dehydrated air

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