ripple23
08-15-2005, 10:21 PM
the thought of a storm grazes your shoulder
light and feathered
your laugh more often taken
by the cold's heavy hands
how many windows did i lose under your walk
sculpted by shaking
a desert reforming under the sun
your pockets are sand filled
horses track dust into your mouth
a woman is speaking of her garden at Cartegena
her voice is dusk, grey and sober
offering a name to cities
demanding the feet of the moon
light and feathered
your laugh more often taken
by the cold's heavy hands
how many windows did i lose under your walk
sculpted by shaking
a desert reforming under the sun
your pockets are sand filled
horses track dust into your mouth
a woman is speaking of her garden at Cartegena
her voice is dusk, grey and sober
offering a name to cities
demanding the feet of the moon