I surged towards the sand
Time and again,
But it failed to soak me in.
Sometimes, I need to get a thought out of my head; to set a feeling free; to let words create a trail that i can trace back. Sometimes, I need to write a poem.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Your spell
Images dance across my silent canvas,
The backlog of my unwritten thoughts:
Your voice,
How perfectly it hugs my name
I almost smile, helplessly numb.
The elusive sensation of touch
Beyond the physical
That you evoke.
You flirt with my *Dancing Princess,
Wave a few stars aside
And make room for us.
Somewhere along the way
I must’ve slipped you the key to reach me,
I see you opening the door.
*Dancing Princess is a constellation I made. She can be seen this time of the year flowing her ball-gown in the eastern sky.
The backlog of my unwritten thoughts:
Your voice,
How perfectly it hugs my name
I almost smile, helplessly numb.
The elusive sensation of touch
Beyond the physical
That you evoke.
You flirt with my *Dancing Princess,
Wave a few stars aside
And make room for us.
Somewhere along the way
I must’ve slipped you the key to reach me,
I see you opening the door.
*Dancing Princess is a constellation I made. She can be seen this time of the year flowing her ball-gown in the eastern sky.
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