I don't write, I paint myself blind with words...diogenes herded...ignorance...gilded cages...filling up on beauty unleashed...free will's maddening fractures...eyes that need to smell to see...
May 15, 2011
witches and water, how I love those daughters of Eve...
stealing the beauty of 4 am
I can always feel beauty
fall enough to watch water hang,
clingng to words, exhaled,
regaled with a fetal ferocity
that only blooms in the shadows
that molecules peel
when they thin time
til love finally bleeds out gravity's bouquet
its sad roots ride winds
and know, I can only trick the lock,
circling round worn wound sounds found in the reeds,
waiting for the Pharoah's Wife,
waiting for the flowers of my life...
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I love this:
ReplyDelete"circling round worn wound sounds found in the reeds,
waiting for the Pharoah's Wife,
waiting for the flowers of my life"