Friday, January 2, 2009

Ice upon my lips, the fragile deer in the front snow covered lawn
past midnight, is my folly your play, is my taught surrender your beguiled horizon of rummor
Do I make shift the guiet surrender of your pausing hostility
Freed, I breathe in , I whisper to myself, I wonder if this night will become who I thought I was
Is this chaos my fortune, is this rapture my destiny
Is this forfiegth my becomming
Is this teeter taughter your voice overcoming my indignance
My ignorance of the world
Do you flood the floors of dancers?
Do you caress the minds of the hestitant
I embrace my child , wrapped in the balankets I left behind,
She sighns and moves here beside me, soft and sleeping
I thus also turn my drunken heart to meet her
Meet the clouds that hold me
Keep the thoughts that surround me
Keep these draughts of stories for this white sleepy night is calling me home to angels
caling me onto tomorrow, calling me onto my one and only, and my
cumbersome gleaming morning, of horses breath and hay filled wheels.

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