PoetryAloud
Paul Sands Reads
rise
rise that we distance
anything less than the invited silence girl rise through the anonymity of your greasy canvas let the cold extinction of peasants doubting the dead write your loathing of me you are high and I am cover for every petty perception yet not nor ever the mirror you deserve the glass so close many time inflicted kills where the wounds downpour impatient in their obligation forced lengths will burn splintered lungs and hand held photographs yet dusted tributes drum a rumpus along a veined abandon as wounds licked hold off such forced hope no wires can close so puckered a wither of callow tribute |
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