Saturday, December 13, 2003

A vision(unedited)

Visions of our tomorrow:

Across the river,
people still wander about,
a blank face stops to peer down the
alley way of our lives and turns away.

Is it the wildness of our embrace,
or is it the wonder of how we readily face
all that we are,
or have we already become
his nightmare of tomorrow?

Later, I sleep and crazily dream.
A dark end of summer kind of dream,
of the moon, and your eyes.

Softly I kiss your lips and tremble,
is that your blood or mine I taste?

Not that it matters,
for all that you've become,
I already am.



Copyright ©2003 Edward T. Durham