Missed Connections from Brooklyn
I have cast aside all hopes of being guarded by an angel. . .
For when my soul cries? Do you hear it?
If I, over here, blurred into the horizons of the other shore
Whisper into the ocean
Can you listen to the song the sirens break -beat
waves and ripple in the tides
that crash into the rocks of your bones.
But the blood is gone
A carcass remains, weak and weary of risk yet again.
I have bared my soul too many times,
Presented already under pressed conditions
All I got, and it’s a whoooooole lot.
Not of my lot.