Wednesday, February 17, 2010

of good intentions

Her secret identities
Erotic salutations written on thank you cards

Hot rush of blood
She thinks of me every afternoon
Moments shrouded in secrecy

I can see her amongst the wildflowers
beside a river that doesn't move
The sun, a flashing image in the peripheral.

Declarations of love
in the same breath as the goodbye.
Don't know where I'm going,
how long I'll stay.

Heaven is the answer when there's no one else to call
when everything that once was,
is gone.

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