Gleaning

In my dreams I glean a bit; enough to entice, but that is it.

In my head the well is full and dry and dwell I do, somewhere in between.

In my heart; encased and limited, tinges shock through; threatening to replace, threatening to erase.

Sensical? I think not. Practical? Not a thought. Screaming? Not to hear. Dreaming? Controlled and clear.

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1 Comment

  1. Kris said,

    December 3, 2010 at 2:36 am

    I have always loved your poetry. I have been maintaining my site and updating it frequently.
    http://www.k1331.blogspot.com/
    Give it a read when you can.
    Take care,
    Kris
    ps it was nice seeing you the other day, but, i was way too freaked out to hang out with too many people.


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