Stone Floors

I wake to a mausoleum in
cracked marble, raw fingers
tremble for tobacco,

Rolling a minute of peace
for fresh light,

Strapping frames to face
as the world brings clarity,
Shielding the feet from

the burning sharpness beneath,
Back and forth through

time, words again standing
by the torn sheets,
The sun to light my day.

2014-02-19_1392824110

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