Monday, August 27, 2012



My hands splashed in
warm puddles in your eyes
back and forth
stinging red to milky white
like the changing of leaves that
we crushed under our backs.
No running permitted, only
existence in convergence;
no words conjured, but
the words bubbled up from
the canyons of yours
and the glaciers of mine.


Doberman black brown
Ready to hold down
Quivering and still
'Til master bends will

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