orgami's Diaryland Diary

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House of Mirrors

sky embrace
and turned away
there is nothing there
to take the momentum

empty closets and dusted
pantries on iron hinges
the steps turning at the
corner of the landing
and the lawn filled with
wind tossed night

stars turn on the pole star
and fragrant blossoms
linger in silent star din
where bones of alpha lean
like pines kept gaurd
by whitewater levithian
skies

and I hunger for the breath
sweet and pained
the hand upon the pane
to trace like refractory
elm limbs arced
like the last spark

Love always tastes better
aged no matter what the
tradgedy
or the future of the latter

7:36 p.m. - 2011-06-24

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