Thursday, April 22, 2010


Be close, my dear-- lest our love
becomes ruined by metropolis sufferings.
oh! Lilies, and
violets of two-toned fields!
and one in seventeen-
and desiring a twin, but needing variance
from a single multitude, held close, and O! As the one in the similar city!
Noticing, what correlations between unrelated objects hold,
like a pair of doves, and the leaves beneath our boots;
or even! Wildflowers falling from our hair!
Inside a yellowed albatross
in a jungled forest town
and a professor in a dulled shirt
and a treehouse overlooking the rustling bay
even--- to be dissipated
tomorrow, to be sad
and grey arched troubles
of harmonic gauges and

the freckled eyes
of an entire army
marching towards the sun
and eyes beaming into carbon particles
begging to be seen
by their stargazing lovers.

and bells tied to our ankles,
shivers make them
clash wildly into each other
demanding birds
to arise from their enwintred slumber,
under crumbled summer
weeds and frozen
bulbs of forever-flowers,

portals for our eyelids
tea leaves
held in our apron we saw-
a sparkling of light pink roses
from our knitted purses,
O, to be alive and wildly tumultuous!