Friday, December 26, 2014

there's a picture of sunflowers, my favorite
by far. one 
leans apart from the bunch, rests
it's head on the wooden fence.
in my mind's eye, 
a visible sigh in it's face

it's posture affects --
and though time accelerates, 
there is still gold in the lines of my face,
some days    the light catches

and warmth Ihold in my pockets
for days like today, I drizzle it on my tongue. 

&my insides are wrapped in dusty glow
from eons before
I began to wilt

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