Thursday, April 14, 2011
Day339 - but
Approaching the mid point, to this, our hour; chancing to daydream, disassemble, devour; separations of stone, marbled and true; mirrored souls in smooth, doubled, magnetic, in whole & in virtue.
Leptons, neutrinos, muons & tau, what lies beyond, the dendrochronology of he, borne solid of waist, and years bore the backbone; fragility, grace, when circumstance contrived to bellow his name, a pseudonym true; devilicious desire.
Gazing at brushstrokes, each bristle in finest, the fractions so fair, to be washed on the shorelines of consciousness sure. Enjoy them now, while the shadow in hiding, absorbs the most fierce of fantasy fare; yet without a wish, she brings them together, longing for sunlight, unadmitted to self, but known so well, in spaces; hers, deep.
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Labels:
butterflies
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