Saturday, July 14, 2012

What Beauty Born

What beauty born
rooting your days
to the dry
spreading your losses
in loosed winds

ugly rivers down in tongues

You arch across the day
from morning to moon
tempting a tremble
tempting a fall

 much ado about decay

but what beauty born 

1 comment:

  1. You, dear, may have alla the prose and synaptic synonyms you desire off'n me blogs -IF- you'd allow this sinfull mortal to kiss your delicious, indelible, adorable feets in the Great Beyond. Think about it, wonderfull girly. Git back to me Upstairs, k?? God bless you.