Sunday, October 17, 2010


Living at the tip of the lighthouse

on the edge of a crashing ocean

I shut my eyes tight and hold on

to the salty metal bars of the balcony

and face the stormy slap

I hold my breath

push my feet into the concrete

and imagine I'm a lightning bolt

A part of the storm itself

absorbing the charge like a battery

and storing up strength

For the long and thrashing ride

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