driving
the mane
our
hands wear time
around
what our skin
does
drumming legs
resting our eyes
turning petal drives
into pistil wings
into pistil wings
singing
the fool praises of warm
waves and angels who like
to
get dirty too
in
the tide pools
of
garden reach
this
beach is all
I
want today
this
beach is all
scented crawl
this
beach is
where
you wash
over
me and tell me
in
insistent whispers
to
keep my hands
on
the wheel
and
lean inside
the undertow arc
of each turn
of the bloom
between us
of each turn
of the bloom
between us
EJR
©
This is so many things...elegant, gentle and with a little sense of urgency thrown in, like an anticipatory chill. So, so good.
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