Guest guest Posted January 31, 2002 Report Share Posted January 31, 2002 I tie you to my heart as this forget-me-not of prosetry. This posy of violet flames, and I a cedar of Lebanon, grown sweet in the sap from longing to be hewn by your merciful ax...... Forgive me Beloved, for all these garlands I bedeck about your invisible beauty. Often they are old and smell of the sweat of a phantom labor, too colored by a false odor to be real flowers. Take my silence and wring out that last drop of sham still-born from inadequate words. I would arise in your thought and stay put like a hen upon an egg. Like a seed husk deep in the musk of becoming only you. As a forget-me-not laurel, set within a crown of flowers only you can wear. I have grown thin within your purple mantle like an old and toothless fox in your divine hen house. Pleased to consume the feather light awakenings of your presence, and my absence. love eric Copyright 2002. Eric Ashford. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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