Wednesday, January 13, 2010

The Poet/ for Pablo Neruda

Making love with words
Bread for the soul flows
From pockets of love
A river of stars in the sky
Earthly bodies could do no justice
To the way every syllable caresses
Pulses through the senses

The moon of your mouth
Spills silver throughout
This small universe
One knows without knowing
Senses without feeling
The deepest river of all
Courses through the canyons
Of life's essence..

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