Thursday, April 11, 2013

Sweet

Gifted loops gentle
as a lake rising to greet you.
Kiss your toes in the dark
so the medicinal lamp light
lowers softly on your crown.
Another word for that is "magic."
I could forget what comes after,
the stillness shattered by
movement, the painful aftereffects
littering the floor. A hat on the bed
is a real no-no. Hold your head
in a perch, so the trucks are muffled
with your ear against my chest.
I can think of so much I don't care
about anymore, but I won't.
Thick as a rope tugging the dawn
straight into chaos. But I won't
go there. I'll be here.

3 Comments:

Blogger Glen Green said...

"Thick as a rope tugging the dawn sta\raight into chaos". Choice.

9:39 PM  
Blogger Glen Green said...

I curse my fingers.

9:54 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Beautiful!

11:32 PM  

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