Monday, August 13, 2012

Of all I can be-

of all that i can be and live
i want myself to be a poem
perhaps by neruda
where i grow
like carnations
and linger like silence
where i am read and re-read and interpreted
as dense as a jungle
yet tiny as tears
not a prayer neither psalm or words
that stab
but a tiny heartache,
a dark loved thing
between the shadows and soul
and your closed eyes as i sleep

all possibilities
may be you would
have me written
in your heart
or diary

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