a bud into a blossom


past image is dazed and scattered
pass along the play of ecstasy
she
 sleeps

she dreams

she is awoken
from  the dreams that sanctuary flattered

a secret stirs

in craving

she is back to her dreamy world

away from hollowness

closer

to the delicate

where curved flesh pulses

obliging the lifting of her eyes

clearer

fascination of the restless

trembling in ecstasy

through the smoothed touch

in her the throbbing is fused
dream in

a dream

the power that
designs the vision

old dreams are pleasant

cherished

with supple feel
 and certain
the new dream is passionate and stirring secretly
tempting her eyes

for she is also a dream in a dream

flying

spreading herself in the design
 shaped and shaping

for within that great yearning

her eyes close exposed

on the flowing silver of dreams

sense the stimulus which is satiating

and moves to a ripple

then to a wave

that change her eyes and her surroundings

they swell and produce a bud into a blossom

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Anaïs Nin:

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”

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