Open Poetry #47 |
time owes me no favors |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
I felt her hair under the thin roof My eyes wandered around for a bit But the sage of the kitchen counter Seemed to bring me back To the time my mother Use to cook under the sleeves of the early evening. A time I could remember how the locks of her hair Coincided with the breathes of my newfound Affair with her lovely breaded chicken I touched her until the dawn was mine Until the shoulders of rust Turned to melt the idea of time Time plays for all And with time comes a slow decline But today time was on our side The satin sheets Skimmed the side of her legs With her arms on my stomach I could touch a word that morning And feel the side of its accent In that room I could stay in that bed until the end of time Until every prayer is answered Until the roads could never be mine anymore Until my words from the name of my mouth Are mine to be seen Are mine to be felt My name is the words from the souls of my sun The tree of life with her delicate shoulders swinging next to mine |
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