Sunday, January 13, 2008

Unconsciousness

with hairs so lovingly everywhere spread,
you drift, beside me, into unconsciousness,
our breaths a perfect syntax.

would you leave me, then, for the
nothingness of slumber—where ungoverned
minds might tear our knotted souls
to two? as i shut mine, i will
your half-ing lids to part
and
return, full-praised, to the joyfulness of waking
close.

but when i hear the sweet-kissed lips exhale
a sigh of deeply-gone, when the
full well wisdom of a good eight
hours makes itself (gentle) so
poignantly aware,
strangely, i do not feel yet abandoned.

though not as one we are not still
so very far apart.

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