in want ive

in want ive looked

finally    those eyes been away, I

dream the always again.

g r i n d i n g  bones my tracing

 softening, baby palms
ride back to internal warmth of centre, as it
alligns and calmly lifts little breathing,
eag-er fing-ers catch ing hum ming words in
ancient tongues

never surpassing the still-ing stunn-ing
accuracy of chance

10:28pm
Jan 3/2011
Edited by: A.Baron and E.Portelance
Jan 9/2011


I credit much inspiration for this to e.e cummings.