A fragment

It’s like those discreet
cries of laughter
that only your friends get to hear,
thoughtless senses
that carry us off
like trains
when the breathing stops
and the faces turn from red to purple.
In this dream
we’re each and all awake
and you can taste these blessings
like the shadows
in the light
and the hidden meanings
in all our spoken words.

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About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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