Thursday, September 10, 2009

Verse: acute

Your hands
are too small
to embrace
the sky
fold them
like laundry
and prey
upon hope

your mouth
is too wide
to kiss
the ocean
and not leave
a permanent
scar with
your ivory teeth
your siren song

your truth
is too lustrous
to be obscured
by clouds
tend it
as you would
a flower and
heal its
broken blossom

your faith
is too precise
too unyielding
to project
in an empty cinema
it wants
your lust
not your dreams

your stories
are too long
for silence
to consume
they are like
confetti tickling
the bride and groom

and I
am little more
than longing
in an old
man's heart

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