Friday, December 6, 2013

Wildberries in the Woods


I need not to 

spill my dark waters over you

as you sounded placid

albeit wearied, as you state

and for once

I let go



I saw you in a different light

sharp as a sword

you pound and assault

with the speed of light

you retrieve

operated like a default mechanism

a familiar pattern traced

persistently carved -

altogether

imprinted in my internal imagery 

as I digress my open wounds





I like all narrations with 

tactfully designed closures

beginnings - no less

as simple as you sound

as complex as you refrained from falling into



Of all that I gain after I came in contact

I wonder what synapses sparked

in your defined space




Shall we waltz - 

my sun









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