Thursday, April 08, 2010

Five.

Deep, deep inside your heart, sand grits at the soft raw flesh.
Gall forms from the pit of every organ and finds its way up to the back of your tongue.
Yet, your mouth is dry.
Heavy weights attach themselves to the bottom of your jaw, just beneath the mouth, and no matter how many times you try to shake that weight off it still lingers.
Magic air puffs up your eyelids. Your vision is suddenly narrowed.
It's like someone has their hand tightly clasped around the back of your neck.
Your shoulders are drooping with disdain


Mmmf, the pangs of heart break.