Saturday, November 15, 2008


I know of fidelity through poetry or novel—the whites
of winter, a future that soothed, a man that I would
grow to adore even more.

And within each moment, my heart flew. Regardless of
the fear that clung to our palms, we stepped through
book-pressed flowers, hand in hand, caught numerous
butterflies that swam effortlessly inside.

Glancing back, I sing a deeper hymn in the open seas
of amore—a song of sediment, recall words on an August
night, limbs extended, chests fragile as doves against
the backdrop of forever, where the clouds trembled
translucent, counting seconds in anticipation.

And from October’s chill to May's bloom, we took on a
mouthful of dandelion—an atonement only we two shared.

Oh, we were invincible, sat firm on the crown of this
world, knowing even though we were apart at times,
we would always regain our footing in the everlasting

(Such a part of me, is you—a place where our lips
never quite disconnect, a refuge beside the foggy

And as ocean notes gather quietly, they will discover
us, two hearts like sand, drifting softly together.


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