Monday, June 7, 2010

The Space-Time of a Falling Leaf

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Nausicaa 350

We are determined to say these strange prayers
The power of memory has no power to
Save us, our little mouths are no longer famous
We are no longer these honorable vessels
Smiling determination yet surges again and again
As we look to our pre-recorded hearts for answers
No matter how fleeting

An age of love, this is, where we,
Perfect saints, perfecting our contrition, we
Implore failure jealously
Intelligence cannot protect us now,
We are careworn and far from the sound of the word
The warm air is fragrant with the names of our sins
Now we understand that the only business of our hearts
Is attention.

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