Saturday, July 30, 2011

Bleeding




Bleeding

I am inflated
in my opinions, pack them
around my soft heart
while I ponder you
with your claimed struggle with words
with yourself, with me.

I think of old songs
that I could sing were I brave
enough to sing them
and the caresses
that I could give you today
if I was able.

The distance between
is ever the rosy thorn,
Pricked, I bleed, bleed.

December 10, 2009 8:48 AM

5 comments:

  1. hi love, lets just caress and forget about the thorns.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wonderful words today.. Enjoyed.

    ReplyDelete
  3. When pricked by a thorn, it's best to concentrate on the roses...or their perfumed memories...

    ReplyDelete

The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.


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