Amorphous Descencion

October 9, 2008
i am soaring
diving, plunging, sinking
falling so close to that wall we call obsession.
obsession. not.

I am falling without wings.
my back is sore and weary.
The flight has pulled and contorted my weakened spirit
one minute one direction
the next, another.
i am now ripping.
harsh words cause crevices deeper than the desire to patch them together.

oh, we are fragile.
we break, and fall, and tremble.
now you are making the descent.
one relieving difference,
you are with me.

next, instantaneously.
what aids us?
tears? repenting diction?
they falter in times of need.

next, your hands.
slim and sturdy, a story of strength
in each folded wrinkle.
Their touch: grasping, caressing, holding, supporting.


we are falling,
the flight has pulled and contorted our merged spirits.
we are rushed,
we are weary,'
we are ready,
we are love.

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andycohen said...
Feb. 7, 2009 at 6:59 pm
this was the most beautiful poem i've seen about love yet
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