Sunday, June 02, 2013

Between Hearts


We train the losses, to stay
safe inside the childhood vaults.

The pattern of undetected escapes-
Faux nimble hearts fumble free. 

Carving into curves so gently.
A hand brushes my throat.
Wind through prairie grass, caressing each blade.

The fringes of rapture
Swirl upon each limb.

Blessed forgetting.





The Sunday Whirl : vault, halls, swirl, crave, throat, wind,limbs, nimble, prairie, rapture, train, each