Monday 3 March 2008

Summer


The storm in your breast
Is nothing new.
It’s your heart,
Beating still.

The stories in your eyes
Are never old.
They always lead
Somewhere else.

The lines in your smile
Sand dunes.
Rising, falling,
Never the same.

There were times when
I’d wish you’d burn, and
Keep at it.
Burning.
The fire inside will never cease.
Unlike the winters, gone
But you remain.

(photo by Saranya...thanks!)

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