The tactile sense of your nature was
within grasp of the child but the
window told the innocent to hold us
immortalized as statues frozen in the
palm of its wingspan.

The single pauses collect like dew as
we draw ethereal orbits from sensual
glances, rapture ensues angelic
whispers on the deity the way your
emeralds emanate soft silhouettes.

Announcing your journey home as the
enraptured find the nowhere place
only a candle and light knows.

01/21/2010

Posted on 01/21/2010
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