Tuesday, September 11, 2012

sonnet two hundred sixteen

as the dust collected on
blistered shadows and angled
dreams, the dimensions
shifted to suddenly simply

telling this story of you
and me on a road that
fumbles and twists with
each day we forego the

pain and forgive the
inconsistencies, with each
moment we gauge

the silence of hunted
smiles and of unending
poems and desires.

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