Book of Anya

Friday, January 25, 2013

I Must Find You

What is it
about your hair
rain tipped
& full of
silver

that drives my day

In this palace
behind this desk
next to burning candles
asleep
beside my own shadow

In dreams
your mouth is
naked in red
looming for love

A sun to hold
against my black heart
a shimmering

Like the late shade of a hot day
like glass
shattered against glass

Your
smile
flooding the night




Posted by Tasha Klein at 9:04 PM
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