Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Poetic Soup (formerly Earth in 3D)

The initial awkwardness might at first be caused by my filth.
But when I look her in the eye, there is nothing left similar to a smile.
And I want to be cold. suddenly
I search for solace in the folds of her down-feathered wings.
And for a while, it seems ok there.
But my dream is frightening
Hold the line please, I'll open the door
He wasn't even there, he says he'll be alright.
Simple as a step over the threshhold
Eyes can implicate more than words can say.

Back indoors real comfort comes in nourishment.
I've been betrayed by bliss.
Welcome it in again in due time, to see the changes made to the space.

Nourished senses might reveal truth.
Exercise means discipline though, and my butterflies aren't gone yet.
They swarm, and swarms are impossible in the singular.
Dialogue does not mean one.
Synchronized and syncopate aren't separated by much.
Together is real love in any form
Walls are bad

Alas the cosmos can't be grasped from afar.

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