Thursday, December 20, 2007

Late in the night I lay a-waking

If I fell into a great black sleep
lying on my stomach,
Would heaven take advantage of me,
Violate my perfect shroud of flesh and hollow bone,
And draw out the wings that are made of some soul-like ether
and that beat against my heart every second of every moment,
and will continue to do so for the coming aeons that stretch far into the sun?

Evidently not.
Because I tried it last night and woke up
just a boy.

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