Sunday, April 12, 2009

Linger

The blush creeps up
apologetically, burning, blooming,
Like the bruises on her back
Like the red heart of her pout
Like her rose-coloured world.

I will only stay
juste milieu, bending, breaking
bowing, sighing, swaying, 
Hearing strains of  his powerchord chortle
Feeling my way through the ebb and flow
Looking through my rose-coloured world.

I am yearning
comme ci, comme ├ža, begging, blushing -  
believing, breathing, surreptitiously seeking, searing
Hearing strains of his powerchord chortle,
in my rose-coloured world.
Feeling my way through the ebb and flow,
of his powerchord chortle.
Looking through my rose-coloured world,
yearning, entreating, bowing, breaking, swaying, sighing.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

the bluest light

I won't touch, touch, touch

  we're all afraid of shedding thick skins