Friday, February 17, 2006

It's been a extensive winter, my love.
Once the soil softens, I will sow
your words into the garden - my palms,
wet with curiosity.

In spring, the sun calms:
its warmth will smooth these cool
hands, changing season, where
everything tastes like poetry, shifting
hours, like the curves of your mouth in
admiration - to ensure I do not forget you.

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1 comments to Cher:

Lost Days said...

Seasons pass while hunger grows,
gnawing fervently within this
emptiness of wish and hope, teeth
yearn for first taste, lips chap
from orphaned tongue crying out,
oh, the pain of this obsession,
the stark reality of futility,
frenzied burn of this visionary
submission to sole need, sole
purpose, soul's fated attainment,

I shall never forget you, nor
shall my essence refrain long..

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