All buckled up with no where to go.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Winter Walking

cold radiates from the neck and thigh
against the warm room
mingling basic sensations
like the faint smell of bitter
amidst a banquet of sweetness
into waking
but which is dreaming?
moving through a mountain
in bright moonlight of winter
she becomes a shadow
like the tree veins 
in the snow

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