Monday, February 1, 2010

Stained House

(Pre-Script: This poem should be read as the song, "Landslide," #18 on the playlist, plays in the background. Go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...) (...still waiting...)

What drips slowly down the inside of my walls
unseen from the outside,
I did not mean to stain you with,
did not mean to carry it on hands which
don't rinse off what you cannot see,
but only perceive the after effects,
like an earthquake.
takes a drastic shift
deep inside the earth
yet all you know is how it shakes you,
how it rolls you,
how the house falls down around you and then
everything and nothing is exposed,
naked as ever.

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