360*tree

take my hand and climb with me…

three hundred and eleven degrees: ‘wake, baby, wake…’

No One Would Riot For Less ~ Bright Eyes

three hundred and eleven

needle tracks

( s c a r  )

~

truncated hides

reveal

our history

~

beatings weathered

(  w e l l  )

~

enough

~

to wonder

why

we let

this happen

~

to

the one

(  h e a r t  )

we call home?

*

Everything is eclipsed by the shape of destiny…

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One comment on “three hundred and eleven degrees: ‘wake, baby, wake…’

  1. goldenstarpoetry
    August 9, 2013

    Awesome, Awesome, Awesome!

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This entry was posted on August 7, 2013 by in Winter and tagged , , , , , , , .

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