Thursday 9 September 2010

Writing.

Soft gliding hope
held in your hands.
The mystery
of subtlety
is nothing without you,
so handle me gently.
Soft simple skins
broken and bruised,
a temporary repaired.
Lay down
upon me
your hands or breath
or light;
make me permanent.
______________________

Jumping castle quiver
shudder in sunlight
blinding tremors
doused in ice.
______________________

Sweet belly burn
full and warming from the face
of a sun drenched shed,
bathing
in the sun
and tanning my belly
with red nectar,
sticky
so sweet.
______________________

I want to move inside your head
and never come back down.
You're learning to see
the difference of generosity
and how it melts inside you.
When its something that comes down to
a stormy way to pass you,
it makes me want to give it all up.
______________________

Can you see
a beautiful soul
in these muddy
blue grey eyes
or just this screaming hole?
Slipping on the slick of tears
and the flimsy veneer
of hope,
you see me pedal
backwards.










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