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Thursday, April 30, 2015

The Time of Being

The prize of solitude I reaped
endless nights of concrete streets
Sophie digging her nose into crevices
craving hints of previous passers.

Dreams of August drizzles
torrents
rinsing the pain of parting
though Lina still smiling
lingered in the precipitation.

Rituals of walking worship
greenness
persisting
in my footsteps
Sophie barking her misgivings.

Hours minutely revisited
flaring contentions
roped into my hair
flying at my face
swaying
my life
a sisal footbridge
coming to a standstill
deliberating
stepping down...
stamping the ashes
out
of memory
with every stride...

Crystal darkness
singing
tomorrows following
my shadow
against a backdrop of
evaporating
celestial promises.

A crown of clarity
I adorned
a still world
in a non-moving moment
perfumes of white white
wild
rose petals pampering
my nostrils
breathing
as though God was going to snuff out
the next whiff.

It was that time of being
I missed...