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Divine Epic by Cory Carr Not for a second will I ever let you think, or pretend that I'm a repetitive memory or a lesson poorly learned. Decaying from the inside, we reach for each other. You stare at me through closed eyes. Seeing everything painted in muddy water, nothing of what's inside. Like a defiant, violent storm, better perhaps but not modest enough. I'm sorry, but your not a book. If you were you surly would be a divine epic, and I would understand. I would stand tall, as I try, agenst all the fears that haunt your mind, your memories, your lessons poorly learned, through closed eyes. < BACK |