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...
April 17, 2016
oh yeah you're my angled angel tilt-a-whirl ...........................................................................#NaPoWriMo2016
are you another true purpose I ought be crawling reverently to
are you swirl pattern-swearing-bearings of gods, goddesses
are you my eyes' surprises filing by, storing time(s)
we laugh while trying
to catch our breath
your wet hair
is dry by now
not that it matters much
because everything
that I can see
just rains you
inside me
and we've
no umbrella
nor blanket
only intention
to feed
the rest
of the night with
so let's walk
from here
into Dawn
our dark
is hungry too
EJR ©
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ReplyDeleteI thought she looked like Emma Watson ... but they both have the archetypal pixie-waif guile scabbard flowering courtesan look of Spring ... and as for shaping the poem, I was leaning into the wind and the words followed filling spilling space and line ...
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