Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Hour Desire

I want to exhibit with you in a forest grove.
Pictures upon pictures of our black and white pasts immortalized, seconds pass like ashes. We age evermore; 
Built on sticks, dirt and earth our watershed met.

I want to play with you in a forest grove, melt away our muscles The ones that hold our heads up and make us nod, and arrange ache around our eyes and jaws.
In my teeth I can feel you.
You and I mix together our breathes and wake -reaching... thirsty pores meet each other.
Our song is in the tone that makes heart strings pulled, tears almost come.
Foundations built on a strong ground with a crack running through.
Underneath flows the river, pain spills over the falls, and our souls regenerate in the pool undertow.

I want to be an explorer of rocky ground, and a wind chaser, and a bridge builder over all these land markings and forebodings. The notes bounce on the violin, it is made of fire. We reach for the neck, just as its about to explode.

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