Tuesday, July 17, 2012

sonnet two hundred four

staring at what could be
our life streaming before
our eyes, particles sifted
mercilessly though

mysteries hidden and
borne out of the light
and wind of your soul,
cascading, swirling, swimming

the opportune moments such
as this, through chances that
unraveled and which our

hands took, though a love
that is nameless but
spirals thriving, giving.

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