Tuesday, April 7, 2009

time's arrow

daily wash

night seems too kind
to deign proper knowing

morning too consumed
by face masks and sour milk

but it’s 2 a.m. and
I am still reeling

from the abruptness of
faith’s end, realizing that

sleep is not so forgiving --
complexion not so replenished.

dreaming of my loss,
wishing bare-faced, anew.

(photo via smitten)

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