Thursday, November 05, 2009

the illusion.

sometimes it's your soft skin
that brings me to the stillness.

and in between all rainbows
and black clouds
there could never be any
sunshine on your window.

you live with blood dreams.

sometimes it's the fruit
of closeness,
on the roof of a tongue
that calls your name back.

can you forget
the forests?
emerald green,
where love,
constant love,
we held in our bodies.

remember the goddess lights?

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i am constantly in the state of becoming.