There
There,
there’s a sliver of my soul, near your heart,
your smell, your likeness ensconce and caress
my mind, like a gentle feather offered to the wind, a silent plume bathed in
dark ink dotting our thoughts, smeared in the sky, like diamonds resplendent in
the blazing sunset.
There,
after the ruins and the half-finished landscape, and trees bent down by the
gales and gusts of dusty yellow amber evenings – there, by the lake, amidst the
rocks, in a whirlwind of tears and dry autumn leaves, our hearts still beat to
the rhythm of a perfect timing, unimpeded, flowing, moving our still forms as
we rest enamoured, watching the willows sink in shiny, shallow waterbeds.
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