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
hi love, lets just caress and forget about the thorns.
ReplyDeleteWonderful words today.. Enjoyed.
ReplyDeleteonly with you, Jozien
ReplyDeleteThank You Anthony
ReplyDeleteWhen pricked by a thorn, it's best to concentrate on the roses...or their perfumed memories...
ReplyDelete