Wednesday, July 26, 2017


emptiness coming into thunder
as the hackberry rustles in the wind
i am the rustle
sky white upon infinity's throat
no honeysuckle drip dripping
no rubbed & inky pages
the void lies thick against the blue jay
lines of conduct are hot to the touch
where does the yearning go?
where is the pull to you?
wrapped in sureness
dancing against the light
amber-love rich
golden flight of the knowing

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