Thursday, 8 April 2010

for now may not be always

fingers fumble fail to untie these stones tethered to ankles as my back breaks to see behind the black of your eyes. slightly edges soften. caught in the complexity of caution whilst holding your self wide open surrounded by walls. each a pulse with a body drawn to that which throbs on the right frequency. the transformative energy of nature, both human and not. you know. that place where everything hard dissolves and to slip between strings becomes possible. where i cant distinguish between drum and heart. music and me. it's like that. what's in a word? well, my heart mostly.


Gerry Boyd said...

a very nice tumble of words indeed. bravo!

Timo said...
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