August 1, 2011

at moon o'clock


its the first 24 hours
of a virgin month

a flowerless path
leading to unfulfilled pages
tenderly pure as the snow
blanketing an untouched land of grass

...until i run into his memory...

the mirror in my mind reflects
the trembling but beautiful thoughts
about the he that i once knew

the scent of his staring eyes
the caress of a midnite kiss
the melody of a complete embrace

...and the way that man loved...

but all these precious words
meant only for him
will be kept inside an amethyst jar

until the moon reigns





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