Sunday, March 10, 2013

the water reflects the water


From sound to echo
—we sleep. Among
silent mountains, locked
between sides. We crave

only to remain. On
random days we could reflect
angry sunlight away, and
be still. Like words in thoughts,

We could find that we lie,
heaving bodies into mute
ground. For here your head
lies on my chest. Your gaze

will harvest many swallows.
When they fly low, as if
to touch my belly, and they
predict summer in a way I

could never promise.

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