Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Continuum



My breath rises
to the edge of space
and pauses
at the nexus of perfection,

falls,
driven by waves of fire, 
by strong hands guided 
through dust and rain, 
through ice, through
the shining
vortex

to my upturned face
where a single drop dies
and fills me with
the storm's desire.

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