Tuesday, December 4, 2012


Seated off somewhere just out my grasp
there you are, 
bending the light around you
absorbing the colors into yourself
molding and twisting and turning
forming, contorting, the space in my mind
filling it with your image, painting the walls
hanging the draips and lighing the candels
of my waking hours, you seap, like water
through the cracks of my mind, winding your way
tips of
my hands, the edges of my fingers
wherein your presence lings
filling the very being of myself with
the idea of your delights
until, of course
my hands stop and eyes open.

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