Ice As A New Solid

Folder: 
Vintage Words

.

Gliding atop a cataclysm of rush

that descends and spirals onto lush

pillows of desired skin breathing hush

as in a whirled wind of luxurious plush.

.

Floating inside raw cotton with seeds

as if procreation was the fabric of needs

I am chaff from disintegrating weeds

wet sans rust, where water beads.

.

Glimpsing under the stand of creation

that arrives to a reclining ovation,

you are the causes in my imagination.

I inhale hard, give back hard exhalation.

.

allets

08-15-13

12a

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