Thursday, March 11, 2010

10:51 ramble

smoke-eyed miracle,
your heart does beat
and lips do kiss
and the touch of
your hand, softly upon mine,
sends chills too heavenly
to be of reality.

this letter to you,
a note, nothing more.
I've no talent at all
except loving you.
my existence survives
on your words and thoughts
and nothing more.

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