Friday, April 5, 2013

5 - The Sinkhole

The ground gapes
and in a blink
you are gone
before I can reach out

I can hold you up and say
We are the mountain
We are the reason there is music
our straws are braided into gold
because I picked you
and you picked

In just a blink
you could sink into the nothingness
and no matter how loud I
no matter if I break my hands
in a mad scramble of dirt and rock
pleading for you to come back

you won't

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