Mid-Point

I want to sail around the world on the equator

Sail right to the heart of your matter

I would burn my listing ship down on your shores

With my life a wreck and my sails in tatters

You come close through the slow sway of the tall grass

As sharp as all the points of the compass

I would swallow your burning heart whole

If only your blood was my blue stained glass

And your holy waters flowed in my veins

Instead of poisoned wells and a bitter cup

This exhaustion’s got nothing to do with sleep

This death’s got nothing to do with years

You come close through lips made of cloth

As blood and flesh through broken teeth

I would swallow your severe grace whole

I want to fall to the depths of the deepest ocean

Fall with delirious satisfaction

I would burn my sinking ship down on your shores

With my wan hope and my self-confidence shattered

New Location

If you are interested in reading Balaam’s Ass, the new location is www.talkingdonkey.wordpress.com. Please update your links accordingly. We’re downsizing a bit, but it feels like a new beginning. Still working on getting the archives from here moved over there. See you soon.

Timotheos