Saturday, March 25, 2006

D.

I continue, as if it were an isomer of happiness
which passage of the right wavelength would rectify.

But from the coffee-grounds of regret I manage to extract
a decoctation of beauty that props my eyelids apart.

My bafflement of her surrounds me, a city in motion
where I stand on every corner drinking the car-exhaust of devotion.

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