we count each crystal of sand
as if it were our last
we love the cold
so that our breath can be seen
i eat your hair
and bite your flesh
because you bring out the
carnivore in me. bless us both
for we have sinned
(but it certainly didn't feel peculiar at the time)
like dancers
we enjoyed
nothing more than to move
we didn't watch our feet
our hands
so much as they watched
us
and anticipated what we could do
within our own limitations
god made allowances
for our shortcomings
and what was whispered
between us we took to be solemn
oaths.
(c) jim hill (01-27-10)
No comments:
Post a Comment