I want
i dare not say it
I freeze
yet i burn like
a forged blade,
still steaming.
I am soft
made from pieces of earth
clay's origins adorned with
plumes, bearing the Muse's Laurel
screams out what we are and
how we want.
I fear
living in sweet contentment
i am soldered to my passions
up against the brass headboards.
I want to sleep like Calloiope's bed
divine with grace
I want to walk in the still moonlight
hollow caves, on a crisp winter's night
watching my breath create misty halos that float
on indigo sheets as unborn saviours of
angels unborn.
I want.
Posted by poetry/muse6165
at 10:31 PM EST
Updated: Monday, 01/03/2005 9:40 PM EST
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Updated: Monday, 01/03/2005 9:40 PM EST
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