Friday, December 17, 2010

The Longing

A beautiful woman
A window
Lightly frosted
Like a cake
Not as if for a wedding or some other
Formal declaration of any particular importance
But something to be consumed
On a blustery autumn afternoon

And consume it she does

Cold air stalks the wet ground outside

But inside
So warm
Lonelyness and melancholia may have paid a visit
But nonetheless
She is still warm

What she waits for is moot
The elegance of her anticipation itself
Conveys the beauty of natural rhythm and cadence and
The longing of soft light and shadows
And downright poetry

More than a hundred romantics
Writing a thousand earnest love-notes
For a million years
Using nothing but blood and tears for ink
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