Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Sweet and simple warmth wraps
Around and found
Beating hands’ red dirt roads
Come true
be present
Not only found but profoundly
Persistent in my extremities'
existence 
Mind sweet as, memories
Oh be free they cry
As I rush to brush this heckling flashing dial 
Oh be free they cry
So I shall oblige,
If only in a thought that lingers on my spine