that fall from grace a mere trip
a glide into unfixed morality
quantummed checkerboard deserts
where rivers dribble
past thirsty farms
here where rain and wind
are corralled and fenced
traded and brokered
fragmented beyond limits
to where guilt
is weightless enough to be free
no charge for sighs
those breaths expelled
gracelessly
David Trudel © 2014
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