15 November 2009


I'm helpless or helpful, depending
on which piece of land I'm standing on, and yet
the grass gives under my feet all the same.
My shoes feel the difference. My head is in someone
else's dream.

I'm assuming you can read this.
If so, you should know that I have a song for you.
It isn't well-written, or even pretty,
but it has to do with the skeleton of your goodness,
how it's buried in a shallow grave, a collar-
bone sticking up out of the ground.

This is your shining moment.
I wait for you to remember me.

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