Sunday, March 27, 2005

Dear John Poetry II

I close my eyes
your image is burned inside
the feel of your hands
imprinted on my body
your voice
memorized by my ears

I whisper “I love you”
to fly out the window
be picked up on the breeze
and be carried
over the treetops and roofs
and find your ear

Take heed
my heart
still belongs to you
then, now, always
don’t let it waste away

(the first is here)

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