there's a binding night
in front of me as the
wagging tongue of karma
waffles in the wind
love has yet to run its full
course through my body.
I've only just received the
injection and the site is
still beaded with blood
the wind blows, oh how the
wind blows so restlessly.
I observe the call to her as
a smooth rustling of leaves,
as a swoosh upon water
continuous, despite faults
and tangles through time
our endless knot transcends
boundaries and obstructions
hold me tight, hold me tighter
enfolding, flowing, forevering
(Image by creativemotions on fineartamerica.com)
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