Questions Haunt The Waking Man - Poem by Patti Masterman
questions haunt the waking man,
in the blazing air of morning
his breath the needle piercing blood;
red rhythms of the glass-bored voice of night.
change has devoured yesterday's laughter,
drunk slowly of ghostly desires broken free
as the killing universe listens, each wild-born day
and beats naked life, with a lingering kiss of decay.
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