Wednesday, July 28, 2010

my sands...

you.

walk by with your plaints

and your woes.

and your numerous stories.

of the sun the moon,

and your fire and your ice.

and the pain and the deepest,

darkest.

fears.

and i.

listen.

because I have to row the boat.

and gently pass it by through the lake that stretches.

from this shore to that.

from this ear to that.

from this lip to that.

from this moment to that.

love.

be.

love.

be.