[between]

improving the aperture-
the forced light;
the swelling of cells,
the yelling through hell –
years of hell and i widen the lense a bit;
tune into the sound,
my own movements
beating rhythms in the ground.
amid the noise,
i tend to my voice –
a quiet light to resurrect her choice.
still as the will
of the angels strum
along to the
grounds quiet drum.~

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s