Sunday, 8 November 2009

It’s delicate
A dainty dance
Of rocks
And cotton wool.
And now I’m hung
So tightly here
So empty that I’m full.
It’s perfect
In a wicked way
It’s magic, but it’s real
It spins me
Like a penny piece
A free ride on the wheel.
Amidst the fog
The sun shines through
As whitened as a dove
Lost a little…
Found again,
As fitting as a glove
And as I fall
So gently here
So happy it’s a sin
This orbit
That life spins me into
Makes me smile within
Oh perfect you,
This little world
Of rain
Of night
And thunder,
Is fragile
As a rainbows light
It sways me
Into wonder...

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