Thursday, September 25, 2008


I was scared to let go
of your hand
as we walked
I mean it was cold
and I was easily lost
the tall grey strangers
which cast their charcoal moods
upon me
and I watched
my memory of the light
shrink to the size
of the dot
in my i

But there is no eye
a man bereft of hope
who blinded
does not see
the way forward
but I do
and I did
those mammaries
golden and joyous
which hid
never from sight
a delight to behold
to massage back
until the windows
to happiness were many
as art
on a gallery wall.

And yes
there are shadows
in front
and behind
but a shadow is merely
what light
tries to find.

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