How is this I felt the ruddy outlines of love jut from me, physically present? Not of my own will — a companion — such a gift, so precious I would never wish it harm. Yet, when I shout, “I refute thee thusly”, I rend my toe upon this happy calamity.
Month: May 2012
Your gaze before me, as pleasant as sparkles on the sea, I dig for the gem you carelessly dropped, the muddy ocean seeping under each paw.