The flaws become us
so what seemed
as uncommonly and broken
as the old poet says
becomes that which
we treasure most
even which we envied
the plowman's heavy steps
over landscape we
still ache
the tread
the wrong face
we imagined then
now cherry blossoms
as Pink as a lips I dreamed to kiss
petals scattered
everywhere in my heart
what was so unshapely then
covers me so that I
dream
the drip of your lips
as you drown me
floating out of me
into you
anew
No comments:
Post a Comment