oh, it is always my miah who cures my ailments
and spins me in circles so i may be a girl again,
pretending to fly with hands outstretched
on the gliding swing,
trying not to drag my sandals in the mud underneath.

but for now, while he is busy with other things,
i fend for my Self-imagination.
now is the time of reflection and depression...
cycles as always.
but where has my inspirational autumn gone?
it feels like winter already...
(without the christmas trees
to guide me this year)
s a d p a u s e
...
...
m o v i n g o n
i'm flying to pleasantville this weekend
to listen to the littlebird's melodies...
i need a Soul break.
i feel like diving deep
into the gates entering the garden
of my soulsister.
(i know i have a skeleton key...hidden beneath glances.)
to know that someone understands
my fingerpainted picture.
and she is right in her words
that this distance is special.
but sometimes...

the nymphettes fly like sprites onto
the lavender flower petals at my heels.
and the combined laughter is splendor
to my heartaches.

smoke suffocated the roots
of meticulously placed flower pots.
flowers need touchsound and intimatebreath
to grow lengthy vines to touch the sky,
as above so below...

one, two, three
is all i need.
a mystical trinity...
besides,
quality, not quantity...

yes?

10/17/2002

Posted on 10/17/2002
Copyright © 2024 Bethany Lee