Monday, January 28, 2008

Poem IV

Your lips are a fragment of my soul
That alighting on my cheek
At the corner of my mouth
Color the world in the shade of my dreams
Surrounded we are painted
An impossible ideal
Manifest for the instance
Of a kiss
An angelic perfection
We the divine
So that when I lift
My eyes heavenward
All I can see
Is you

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