And you feel it,
running through your skin.
Veins of pleasure , veins of pain
Hold fast to your sights of eternal blindness.
Rain has fallen; flowers grow.
Reaching out for some kind of cold touch,
asking for lips of ice.
Moving from limb to limb in the dance-
the dance of back and forth.
Wanting, needing for one of nothing.
The road winds to you, my skeptic-
for that is what is left of me...nothing but gravel on your path.
Pick me up, oh lord of wanting!
True needs for you are set into designs of your mind.
The seeds of my body have been planeted careful,
they bloom in the last days of summer.
Again they call out to you-
"all I require is water!".
(8/16/2007)
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