May 20, 2010
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drops. drops.
collective, building into mass
from nothing but a couple

they do more than collect.
they are holy; they reflect
everything from another view
that makes me want
more of you.

the freezing cold that pierces
with the wet that follows
the rain like a dog can only be
demolished, a dilapidated
theater playing only tragedies,
by your arms and their warmth,
the comedy and glee of your

so resplendent, the drops
that do become oceans
to further reflect your light;
the beauty contained
in that fragile shell
almost slices my sight.

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