With Beckoning Fires! Poem by Eric Cockrell

With Beckoning Fires!



why is it...
yesterday i walked on water,
today i tripped crossing the room!
you are only as distant
as the prayers of
semen stained thighs...
i am only as near
as the spider sleeping
in the hollow of your neck!
god yawns.... people get old,
sputter, and die...
but the voices remain,
with beckoning fires!

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