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kissing toesunder the crumbling sun
dipping into the edge
slow tide
comes
in
over thumb
pale white door
always open
leading to the room
where the
rose unfolding on arms
obeys the moons laughter with
sleepy gesture
tears give no minuite for pausing thought
fault line drawn close
rattling the blood stream
love simply suggests: narrow confines of being
fall down
into
add no more
sorrow dries out
the movement is happily unfinished
Poetry by Aaron Jon Wells
Read 508 times
Written on 2005-07-18 at 03:30
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