Thursday, June 13, 2013

Quarrel With Rumi Valentine

A man bursting into flames
screams in the cross-fire Look, ma!
 
The fiery twig with its cleavage
broken whines the same
 
The sun following along clarifying
the right way may be into the darkness
and cold and lost really to be lost
 
The sky abusing the ocean
stitching tattoos all over its harbor
planting its salty tongue in your mouth
 
The rose the petals of whose touch
expose the thorn and then thrust
 
The shadows who acquire fame
and spout the desirable lines
 
Everything trembles like a stone
when you walk toward us only one
over the plains of light

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