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Alin Feb 2015
holy is the body that makes love to me
holy is the gaze that gifts me timeless landscapes
holy is the touch weaving the lodge of our union
holy is of sound that resonates and gives birth to a wavelength of silence  
holy is the wind that breaths along my face and surrenders
holy is me when I stand on top of this mountain with you
Alin Feb 2015
and she walks the heart’s road
one more time
the known letter becomes unknown
last time the first time

she allows vapors of  thrill shape
as much as wisdom approves time
Know your place she says
don’t fly up too high
that’s uncivilized far
See I am standing calm inside
hear me?
on the ground
body feet well aligned
agreed ?
yes and no agreed
you anyway cannot disagree
It's only my politeness that asks
She walks like the wind  blowing pure joy
a gifted natural balance of posture
being one with the time
of man and of woman and of child
whatever she becomes
at once the crowd
Their laughter makes summer
like a hypolimnetic volume in the temperate
reflects to universe as a place to perch  
amongst stars (when you sometimes pass)
while they seemingly cross traffic lights
led by a black dog
and a red cat (hiding in a mysterious plant)
as if she knows us  
from somewhere
or I her
as if this has no consequence
as if
she says
and the sound defines

— The End —