Wednesday, February 24, 2010






Pre positionals crowd my mind
my heart is blind I hear a note
the strumming stroke of a
hand on my face, on my heart, on the lace
of the dress. a tress
falls on the strengths that she.

She eminates beauty, She eminates love.
Eminate my love for her hand
the strand of hair falling fast
as it falls to her neck what a
time stands still and we enter in
good will, donating, receiving
compacting, ne'r deceiving.
each other.

her face, why do I trace
the lines of her fate brought us near,
love draws us clear of the shrapnel
of the failing pieces of all that well
describes the times of our lives
we die. why. Well.
It is well.

As I enter the line
to proceed past processionals
professionals mock the steel in my
eyes melt at fifty degrees
at the warmth of a touch
I fall to my knees. wash the feet
of the woman who completes me
wholeheartedly receives me
and takes my hand as I
concrete we.

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