Sunday, April 12, 2009

and a poem I found


It doesn’t ever disappear.
The memory of that feeling.
That all consuming feeling of being desired.
The in - exorcisable tactility.
The weighed lightness
My heart heavy with desire and light with love.

Maybe you will come back.
You don’t have to be You…
I hope you know that?!

Your phantom heart in any body will do.

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