Timeless Moment

August 24, 2010
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Crippled leaves pant
Pale, shallow breaths
As my feet crumple across
The frozen, matted ground.

The air is bluntly cold
Against my face;
No wind,
Rather a truncated force
Against the warmth of my
Breathing, fleshy, rosy face.
My eyes dry with the cold
Aching softly in vain
As I seek to absorb

Space ahs become
I can see it from all sides –
Sharp and angular,
As if waiting for catharsis;
Waiting for the
Tipping point,
Gravity disappears and
The rhythms in my mind
Churn weightlessly as
It all sinks in.

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