Sunday, July 17, 2011

8th Week, 8th Blog

Spring semester snowed in too quickly for me to catch a snowflake on my tongue. At least I had you to savor, my sweet sage.

Clandestine trysts started on the seventh floor's folklore section. Magic happened between the bookshelves. I remember...

Conversations evoked curiosity and the innate craving to learn. I wanted to know you, the house shaped birthmark on your back, the checkered scar on your stomach, and the thumbprint of a freckle on your inner left thigh.

The winter days I held you in my arms surrounded by ancient books stocked monument high that made sounds of all different sorts. Barn animals freed themselves mooing and oinking.

Our hearts a stirring fire cooled by natural flowing water. Run water run. Breathe baby breathe.

Cotton blankets covered the majestic tile floor. Softly dipping the finest ink tip in paint the most sensual poet exploded on canvas.

You were a delight first thing in the morning before my granola bar, and a liberation after my long runs.

The chirping of my heart bounced in excitement holding your hand walking up the isles of literature. Fairy tale stories jumped out of the ripped pages.

Laughing, a fluffy cloud. Loving you, a honeymoon bursting of colors.

Understanding, you decipher my poems, the penny I leave behind to the world. You know the maze of my body, the enigma of my mind and I love you for it beyond what written words could muster.

-Krista Dora

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