| Published in Mi Poesias Poetry - Zine (May 2001)
Most Secret Of All Secret Things You and I always turned through bruised air, thighs clinched into a swoon of feathery nonesense. You would pant, now stay with me, slightly, here. Now all warmth melts upwards into dark plum clouds. You tore apart my heart like a piece of paper -- the rip, a soft-throated theme of evening birds and every wind's lonely whisper. ©~Ta§ha~ 2000 ~*~*~*~ << |
