Thursday, December 18, 2014

harbored sins



like air she breathes in to my soul
a faint murmur, a plead, of innocence lost
great stallion gliding through the dawn
through mountains and prairies, freedom gone
she whispers softly. 


like the tide’s gentle wave, to and fro
a rhythm, a beat, of childhood lost
haloed angel sweeping through the night
through endless clouds screaming, sins made right
she whispers softly.


like fire she runs across my bones
a desperation, a passion, of confessions lost
anxious painter, sway about the canvas
lines, perpendicular, glowing flames burst, alas
she whispers softly.


and she cries out to me, god, as if it is so
idolatry of passion, lights dimming, lost
a breath, a pause, a sweet remorse
a smile in the darkness, a sinful curse,
she whispers softly.


she whispers, softly.

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