falling down my glass, the rain

falling down my glass, the rain,
like my silver tears, the pain,
like my blood, reddest of the vein,
blooming through cheeks,
flowing, coursing, drives me
insaned and outsaned, breathing it,
my world out-side-in, my words win
when, like horizons to flocks,
my roads fan out into and through
thickets of the night, well-lit, paved;
though another soul cursed his fate,
the chase for the dawn keeps my heart wakeful,
and my spirits elevate westward,
calling over winds that storm
and breeze by you—

turning by turn,
lightning instant thunder.

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