Tuesday, January 5, 2010

waiting.

there's something in waiting
that makes our teeth grow outward and our flesh begin to tickle.
it makes us dig and search and pick.
and in the end we forget about waiting and realize that
we lost ourselves to it.
so we turn a page though our eyes have not yet caught up.
there is no focus then,
we continue blindly
and wait for our vision to come back
so that we can find the plotting demons on our skin
who wish to tickle our hairs and bones,
knowing we can't scratch back.

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