Towards the Morning

by on March 8, 2012 :: 0 comments

The doorways inhale and exhale
Their intoxicating breath amidst the silence

Satiated by the insomnia of musicians
Playing to crowds that gather to be alone

Hoping to absorb the evisceration through their pachyderms
And nourish their sallow faces

Disappearing in a puff of smoke
Signalling their distance from each other

Drowning their sorrows
While waving in the throe

Not wanting to be brought ashore
But left to consolidate their fate.

editors note:

The disconnected congregate to communally ignore their elephants in the room; the only camaraderie they enjoy. – mh

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