Tuesday, November 4, 2008

quentin

oh you curious notion, how
is it that you flit across my mind with those
tiny pretty feet of crimson gold
sticky wet daydreams sopping
seeping deep within the
'vices of my brain?

your sun-kissed wings a-royal blue, they
flow and curl my tiny world,
a-mutter softly their mother's rhyme
while closing in with dad's embrace.

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