}
Friday, June 04, 2004
Inhere

a poem i wrote as i watched my love, asleep...

The night was still far.
No disorder,
just a steady anxiety that tries.
A present incongruity
but security nonetheless.
An appeasing warmth,
more than embracing vines,
bathing sighs,
it rested there.
Enveloping as the tender signs of dawn,
beset, it lies.
All weight passes,
retreats to flight.
Wishing for eternity to be
as sweet as this:
you close enough to feel blood beat,
to hear air move.
As passionately tranquil as this:
having all the worlds resting in my arms.
And I watched you sleep,
cradled, and still.


dezphaire strapped in @ 8:42 AM  

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Sometimes bored. Most of the time oddly alive. Phobic of butterflies. Creatively suppressed. Hungry for coffee and shoes. This is my subconscious talking... at times interrupted by my reality.

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~wireless, mobile and free~~a zebra and a goldfish~~comfort food~~default settings~~a weekend un-blogged~~stilleto girl goes rubbershoe shopping~~unplugged and ready to go home~~smile now, throw up later~~feeling the peeling feeling~~salvaged from the shredder~
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Jealousy, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis. But it's just the price to pay, Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside -- "Mr. Brightside" The Killers
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