Saturday, April 9, 2011
Day335 - my
In this he would never harm, for I have never a need to contribute but a drop to the pool that persists. Wither, without, and though life feeds on life, as naturally as the horizon holds captive the rainbow band beneath blue; harm must be purposeful, respectful, and never enjoyed, yet pleasure is taken in justice served, when it is dished onto fair plate; subjective & true.
Does it design to confuse when mixing "he" with "I"? Where there is consensus; we hope this embroils, entangles & strangles, the thresholds of yore; honesty, purpose & jealousy, each all in their respective grandeurs.
While figuring the scent of a thousand drawn flowers, sketched each with the half thought of him still in mind. A sadness & longing, opacity & belonging; where drag pulls asunder, the hearth once yearned for, and the never never has never, felt so very far away.
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Labels:
butterflies
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