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Poetry
Synapsis Synopsis
By espejo
28 January 2006
Something scrawled late at night under heavy eyelids. Unfortunately, my incoherence at the time is all too apparent in the title.

Cold air through my window
fills the spaces, gaps, synapses.
Shock the daylight back into me,
break the ice that blocks my veins.
Undecided--left or right?
up, down,
smile, frown,
see, or saw?
Skip the guidance,
override it.
Help me through it on my own.
Break the silence, dust is burning
Heat will thaw my chilled-numb hands.
Blood pumps, flowing, cheeks now glowing,
Don't look back now; hold my hand.

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