Wednesday, December 30, 2009

"I am in bliss with you," she said
"I long to kiss you, just not in my bed."
blinded bracing for the fall,
arms crossed as she bled
"Now I don't feel this at all"

Trees teach you ratios of breath
the warmth of awake
an un-read bounty in this,
quite clear off the bed, up to the wall.
I pull the dawn up to your ears upon their narrow folds
slowness of day creeps open,
finds us swirling with its golds.