Wednesday, January 23, 2013

2B....sonnet

My love,
homeless wanderer
conceived in sand
perished in sand
splashed once
in distant oases
on unreached shores
beating desert drums__
futile as adjectives__
to stone-walled doors .
Then panting, weary,
soft-touched her cheek
and wistful tucked
a curl behind
the ear of memory .

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