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Tidal Lock

January 18, 2013

Out of Earthen roots,

her hair is sunlight highways,

paving way from noggin to nada

and dancing tethered arcs

in the wind to dress

her face, light-touched, and

forest eyes with sunflower pupils

that kill the storms before they land

atop the button on her nose, or fall

to those recurve lips

parting ways for luz blanca

and rolling out in sand dune dimples:

Bright smile that I return.

Tides are turned to teases as

she draws me in like gravity

and holds me in her well-spring,

anchoring my hands to hers.

Warm energy and air density.

Our limbs entangle like branches:

she is tempting me like Eve

and gracing me like God –

All in Simult;

She cultivates my communion

and I reach out, out

until I feel like the Tree of Life.


From → Poetry

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