the titular
I think you cried
there, in the house of sunpale shadows
dressed in clothes of affection
then, when the dust
no longer was made of silver
and they called you
the one who never laughed
for the silence in you beatings
when you barehanded threw yourself against the walls
and they called you
the one who tried out skins
when you stretched and tore
in my flesh
to make it suite you
and out of the cracks I poured unnoticed
Poetry by MadinSane
Read 1336 times
Written on 2005-05-28 at 16:31
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