Hurt Rumblings
I am
The moon
The fluid dam
You throw ash at me
Like a volcano sore
From the ancient deep of core
Time melt your memory
Into liquid convulsions
What trace of me in rocks
Was there for observations
Is gone from broken bonds and locks
Of love the murmurers broke away
Your fire can only be one eruption
Long. I have many cycles in songs
And will return when ash falls away
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
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