With my hands free.
Words drip from a pen.
Letters vowel at the moon.
I live between these fingers.
Where touch is a circuit.
The energy of mood.
If i were all thumbs.
I’d hitchhike across the ocean.
Our pinkies swear.
Rings’ engage.
Inside a church.
Under this steeple.
Nestled in the palms.
Counting the digits.
Ten, the perfect number.

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Categorized in: ... December 15, 2010 12:31 am Tags:

1 Comment

  • Ah, so beautiful, I've missed it. As a matter of fact I was just thinking about you this week & going to come here to ask when you were going to post your writing for us again & voila here you are.
    Nice to see you back.

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