Watershed Ground
That I must wait in for you.
No effigy governs this pool of mystique:
& I imagine that which is invisible can cast more
Fear than a figure we can learn by heart:
Daunting is the talented abyss of uninhibited expression.
Dream-ridden are my serpentine ghosts:
Capricious merrows swimming thru the airs of my
Intractable wonderings, feeling slanted to heaven…
Waving delicate smiles like children, ignorant
Of blinkered armies, caustic in the cracks of tallied oceans:
A tear swathes my mood as I cannot spoil their confidence.
In these artic windows, I become my own desire,
Attaching wings to discrete multiplications:
Consequences of breathing you in:
The future arrives in impassive abilities to reinvent
The rolling hours: I have lived a thousand lives,
Dying each time I realize your kiss is as lost as its colour.


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