Beckon   Leave a comment

 

Hold that razor

At the wrong end

Press it down

And try again

Can’t find the beginning

Can’t reach the end

Can’t find a measure by which

To factor in

The causes, the effects

The endless debate

The relentless passage

Of time

The hungry eagerness which calls out

In darkened corners that know

Just how to hush and subtle

Like the blush breeze of a fall morning

And the rush that accompanies first love

To whisper my name

And beckon me with sickening warmth

You are not alone

But the company keeping you

Is not your friend

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