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Sunday, July 06, 2003

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Shadows skip across my path
But cannot be caught
I cannot find you
Though I look on the face
Of every man

she said her eyes full mourn but do not wait forever

Where are your eyes sparking amusement
pouting lips hiding a tongue
ready with dangerous wit
a smile that brushes my mists away

come have coffee tell me your dreams

Where are your hands ready to pounce
on my weaknesses
the jut of your jaw
and warmth of your prickly Sunday face

you need to go home rest sleep

It is there
I can almost find your embrace
Can you see me
Reaching across the chasm?……

There will be other men trust me

At the edge of my sight
I glimpse your face,
And I am again
Chasing shadows.




Muse
If I had lain there
brain drowned by red tide
would you sit here now
myopic in your grief
smearing turgid words
onto this page?

I think not.
You were never one
to spill your soul in public
nor mould your dreams in paint.

But your limbs made poetry
by their play
your eyes hummed symphonies
your lips sculpted my flesh
your tongue drew the sun to me

how could this perfection
be dust
your work is not yet finished
remain with me





Piokiwi 1:56 am

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