Eyes with tongues
Teeter on see saws
Stumble on details
That add nothing
More than cluttered
Caldrons.

Thoughts pour quick
Desperate to catch up
To those far ahead.
Run from contradictions
Crash
Dash
Pull
Apart.
I push carts
Filled with junk,
You think
I see as treasures.

Over this side
The water stings
While it brings,
The welcome invite
To burn
Burn
Burn.

 

Heather Zir 2002

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