it’s the small intimacies…
the ones that gentle
boundaries endangered
that have weathered
our distance
~
touching yourself
surrender
until you are
only
slow aching
in the lightning
capsizing this turbulent abstinence
~
and set us free
~
it’s the small intimacies…
the ones that gentle
boundaries endangered
that have weathered
our distance
~
touching yourself
surrender
until you are
only
slow aching
in the lightning
capsizing this turbulent abstinence
~
and set us free
~
The lack of punctuation lends this an especially ripe fecundity of connotations. So many ways it can be read…wonderful.
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Thank you Gravity…it was unavoidable in the end. Every time I added punctuation it ceased to be honest. More a mirror than a marriage.
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a whisper
has never echoed
such vast
space
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Reblogged this on sueshan123.
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