Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Formless Valentine

What repeats itself
betrays itself
something moves inside it
or behind it
summer rolls her autumn eyes

and by the light of the hair
on her chinny-chin-chin
place-holder for a better
box of paints
she draws the wind

flooding the house
with fragrance and noise
searching everywhere
for a new form
to fill and rend.

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