Before Sunrise

the echoes of experience that accompany us also brush by the wind
softly grazing the love that never leaves you
lonely enough for a buzzard to swoop down inside your soul
absent of any life coursing with bright lines
inside a torn chamber


provoking numerous wounds toxic with lost cotton
found or forgotten
prickling around waste we’ve foughten
failing like a perfect ego, fragile and bitter


mute with silent breath
empty lungs ripe with death
distant skin no ones met
cramped on tension before sunrise