Saturday, December 11


I watched every expression of your face
as the blue hues turned and twisted in
the twilight of dreams, the tomorrow
of my memories. I placed your eyes
in front of mine and held them there;
a token taken from longing afterwards
of the sky’s limit on the even after I
hold you place that sits offen in my mind.
The pinewoods hang their boughs for you,
the sometimes light they do let through;
it falls, not on, but near a cheek of soft
and flow and always in my hand is all
the mourning dew of lost
is how I find myself if life is without you.


Blogger Terrible lie said...

I wish i was soft and gushey like you so i could be sweet

January 28, 2005 at 3:08 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home