10
To try penning ten reasons why i dont hate you
would be attempt to state ten miracles and still too few
a ritual to every start and end of my waking days
tug and play, an invisible thread would never fray
this embalmed cardiac muscle you so tenderly nurse
free falling, elegance and soul in your every verse
a boundless source of patience displayed generously
in disbelief, reflexes ridicule these fishy fits of glee
breathing an imaginary rhythm feels like no mean feat
feet shuffle, synched to an increasingly challenging beat
seas revert the old, these windows now shiny and new
polished, serendipitous miracles ever too few.
Labels: writings
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on Saturday, September 09, 2006 at 6:06 PM.
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