Thursday, May 7, 2009

her secret scent

this days sun
set to rest in this evenings bow

oceans tide does take this days sun to her
this days dream, this days hope,
put to rest in this oceans dim

shifting sand and birds of flight
her secret scent

empty hand and lonely prints,
unknown wind, this evening rage

salt traced face
quivering lip and weighted stumble

days warmed sand sips the souls last hope
the bottle weaned of its truth less grip, lies like loves untrue lip
cracked, bleak, barren

on bent knee begged
a feel, a taste, a scent filled breeze

let loves sun warm the sand filled soul

swallowed in dim
this day lies

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