Sunday, November 23, 2008

Oberkorn harvest in the key of eternal longing.....





It is the sound light makes as it breaks into

lavender shingles of dusk signaling the end of the day
a weeping orchestration chest
the variegated ponds of light peach, azure
dappled drips of orchid like hungover bad-
80's mascara, the tempo of the seasons split

into the feeling of your body inside her body

Like your body all alone ensconced inside the

curtain of your own flesh, the feeling at
sunset that somehow next harvest will be

more propitious, that life shouldn't hurt

this much at times



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