Wednesday, October 6, 2010

gypsy music

plays with abandon

under a wide russian moon

i lay cloaked in wizard syllables

they fall like gleaming feathers

across my neck and into the cusp of my throat and ears,

my whole body strains listening to his touch,

his golden shushing tones have made my skin a soliliquy of responses...

and he thinks i can not hear him?

i've followed his song from one life to the next

and before eve claimed memory...

4.28.10 © agn