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Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Slipping Into Earth

it was a sweet summer day,
sticky as a cliché
but welcome, well-known,
that old friend: we lay on the grass,
slipping into its earth
like an old pair of shoes.

there you were -
a pair of slim
golden-brown hands flung wide,
sprouting nails into the earth,
the dark stamens
of a fertile flower.

you're so beautiful
I wanted to say, but
sight made me speechless,
even though you knew
without the need to convey;

you had that power
to split open the mind - cut
a Caesarian scar to
bring awareness
of a screaming consciousness
beyond the spoken word.

you hushed my mind
and drew me closer,
hands patiently at work
stroking silky hairs
from a tender stem,
to pull me into your world.

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