Friday, January 28, 2011

Of throats


- Magritte's The Lovers

It was only later in life that I'd come to learn that anxiety was something in the oxygen.
Brought in by the bad air that grew old tombstones and generated locusts.
Just another environmental hazard - quickening the hearts and sparking eyes across bar room floors.

Later still, I'd miss it as it shuffled into myth.

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