Monday, October 12, 2009

for B.

shock

the sheer blinding light

a flash
as a car passes
there the curve of your shoulder

our shadows on the wall
fall silent

fingers on my mouth

a car passes
there the line of your hip

your fingers hold my head
in a silent kiss

silent screams

your fingers brush my mouth

in stillness of repose
we watch the moths fly through the torn screen

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