February 15, 2012

poem 46 of a poem a day for 2012

counting a bone Moon's flowers

she lingers
inside me
with a soft carve
of each breath

she steam-reaches
my mirrored soul
in this
the oddly
warm Winter

she could be
part of the weather
some daydreamt
silt in the fingered
deltas of taken chances

kiting the wind for folly
time here erodes
most barriers and
they all give way

I bleed release
in every exhale
I can be
when love is
more than
chemical electricity

more than
to the weave
of her potent limbs
and the geometries
of her entrances

pleasure fills
the temple
of my dreams
of her
when Persephone
serves her wine

in the wane
of Winter
I know
what she blooms
inside me
is no longer

EJR (c)

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