Tasha

The Edge Of Day

You climb to my herb scented cave
you come with your cat eyes,
curling mouth, and unnatural wisdom.
You speak in shades,
your voice a quiet touch.

I bind your dark hair in light.
Our hearts shed the weight of old tears
and silent sighs.
We eat dried fruit
watch sleeping doves,
their breasts,
blooms,
creamy white.
 

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Copyright © 2001 Tasha
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