From the Hollows
“this poem is not about what is written, but what is not written…”
You bring me back to
Life gently, with small doses
Of light airy love,
Like butterfly tugs.
The gray nothing recedes to
Blooming new color.
Soon you’re my lover.
With overwhelming passion
You shatter the spell.
I can feel myself
Recovering with each touch,
And primitive rush.
7/1/11
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