You are in the sunrise when I stay up all night.
You’re the stars in my eyes when I get in a fight.
You are in the pinkish skin left there by a scar.
You are the sparkling glass broke by a crashing car.
You are the slightest pleasure that lives inside of hurt.
You are the clearest water flowing through my dirt.
Within you I find that one ounce of surety,
A place amid the chaos where one can be at peace.
See, somewhere in that mixture, there’s still purity:
The center of the wheel, where motions seem to cease.
Benjamin Cline
04/26/03
No comments:
Post a Comment