you will find me there
always at the boundary
right where sound dies
the voice reaches out for me
the tendrils of timbre attempting to call me back
not with words but with tone and pitch
i will feign oblivion and think,
"you don't exist without me"
and then i will shake with fear
knowing that my audaciousness
condemns me
i want to believe it's romantic
07 September 2010
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