Thursday, April 30, 2009

Wipe the Inner Canthus

A flash, a fear
a crash, a tear
welling in silent
curious doubt.

Spigots as
flood gates;
wistful eyes gaze
through tissue...

A simple grace,
a smiling face,
belies the charmer's

A mist arises
and holds the place,
storm brew steeps
in ponders.

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