prayer
I sometimes dream of seeing you again, and again - we're on that flight out of here to nowhere but the plane is diving so slowly will we ever land? Can I make it to the edge of you, that icy moment that quickens itself as a pray may handle the wrong breath or devotion. I give you devotion, the giving time, all my crystals blurred with the truth that I cannot break free from the grip of your hand as you breathe, getting deeper now, slowly, relaxing, your feet are no longer, your hand extends into the next door woodland and gets itself tangled in the dark green of layers, time is like that, it layers itself thickly only to make the old horse weep.I am the edge, weeping as a layer of you relaxes into icy moments, pray and handle the horse of nowhere, for this plant is a breath of wrong time, again, we're sometimes slow to make the dark green relax, but the door to the woods is breaking and the crystals are giving a pray, handle me gently, don't moment for moment fly to dive or nowhere, I cannot free my heart, he has me, it is wrong, for you, for me, I am tangled and wretched as a land with no tide, as a stone that turns into a moth and slips into the slow death of earth, always slipping you see, handle that.
posted by Cathy @ 1:58 AM
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