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Literature Text
Each fluid motion,
A movement so still,
So poignant.
Strength in a single syllable,
A phrase enforced by expression.
Haunted by a rhythm,
An unconscious, fragment of a whisper.
Symbol of an imbalance at the height of illusion.
Nothing but heat,
Heat from the blown out candle,
Irrational, yet an ability to breathe a sigh of relief -
against your skin.
Nothing but dust, manifesting images,
Dependence on thoughts - created by deception.
"My love, I feel you now."
A movement so still,
So poignant.
Strength in a single syllable,
A phrase enforced by expression.
Haunted by a rhythm,
An unconscious, fragment of a whisper.
Symbol of an imbalance at the height of illusion.
Nothing but heat,
Heat from the blown out candle,
Irrational, yet an ability to breathe a sigh of relief -
against your skin.
Nothing but dust, manifesting images,
Dependence on thoughts - created by deception.
"My love, I feel you now."
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24th January 2008
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