Wednesday, March 16, 2011

I'd Rather Live Like

we do not go days
without words

ours an immediate,
spontaneous combustion
fueled by rubbish from
internal basements

the windows are open;
our neighbors hear,
we wrestle on
shamelessly, inevitably

rage rests painful
in our throats, our
anger a shift in plates
that can no longer
bear the strain

we push into it,
armed, fierce;
our separate truths
skewed, accurate,
faulty, telling

we emerge
spent warriors
who seek peace

washed clean;
reconcilled,
unshakeable

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