Tumblewords

Fractals Photos Poetry Prose Watercolor

Monday, May 07, 2007

Paradox


the patron saint of criminals
calls forth the ides of hell and

angels churned from milky whey
spill across horizon’s line

hieroglyphics prick the night
each close re-draws a dawning

infinity begins
where gray covers black and

a white slice of moon on a string
spins the shape of absence

past climbs over the future
on the stairsteps of Escher





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