Tuesday, May 24, 2011

in aestate luceque credo

I am not mistaken.
The days our inter-
twining minutes count
and enumerate,
or pass out in the attempt,
every single ending
on its network
love to be built up
and taken apart;
reduced or
linked together in
this, their state
of blossom,
the unbuckling of
every single day-
to count each
separate seed
to eat sweetly.


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