Wednesday, October 24, 2007


It is like a bass line
That thumps in your chest.
It won't go away,

Its rhythm won't quit.
It is like an aria in your heart;
It sings until exasperation.

It is like a long drawn chord
From Jacqueline's hands.
It feels like dusk at mid-afternoon.

You find the moon where
She should not be, so many leagues
Before she will give you light.

October 24, 2007

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