September 09, 2011

Something Blue

And so we set sail.


B.

From across this little space

I feel the sparrow lifting

upward (small and
light

she arcs

silver brown against
flesh)

A slow dance in indigo,

taken under the last fading summer

sky.

Later I seek

the promise of kisses,

in my own (lonely)

dance, it is your name

I trill.

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