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Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
bed sheets wrap around. . .
clothing us excitedly—
she stares deep within
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
a raindrop falls from
the sky landing in the sea—
whims of sun's delight
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
her beauty persuades
like nothing before—
holding, trembling, still. . .
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
She waves in a far off land
One that I knew
Like the back of my hand

And on the ever changing wind
The bows flow in spiraling circles
At the tail end of a kite
That pushes forwards
With all its tethered might
As it swoops and dives
At the command of the breeze

And suddenly,

As if with great ease,

It's back to its stable posture

Sailing proud and feeling free

And I know,

Like the kite,

Where I to would like to be

Released from the hand
And sent forth to fly across the land
In hopes of where birds and clouds do tell
Drifting peacefully with messages for the beauty fair
Who stays and waits in a far off place
That she could hear the words uttered by a man
Left blowing for the wind to understand

(...)

And there he stands still.

Wondering...

Waiting...

All the while watching that kites proud flight,
At its greatening height,
Holding the string within his hand


Closed firmly

And

Grasping tight.
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
flower petals crushed—
life’s temporary beauty
transferring senses
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
the place between space
and sky; the narrow womb in
which we do reside
Jurtin Albine Aug 2017
She waves in a far off land
One that I knew
Like the back of my hand

And on the ever changing wind
The bows flow in spiraling circles
At the tail end of a kite
That pushes forwards
With all its tethered might
As it swoops and dives
At the command of the breeze

And suddenly,

As if with great ease,

It's back to its stable posture

Sailing proud and feeling free

And I know,

Like the kite,

Where I to would like to be

Released from the hand
And sent forth to fly across the land
In hopes of where birds and clouds do tell
Drifting peacefully with messages for the beauty fair
Who stays and waits in a far off place
That she could hear the words uttered by a man
Left blowing for the wind to understand

(...)

And there he stands still.

Wondering...

Waiting...

All the while watching that kites proud flight,
At its greatening height,
Holding the string within his hand


Closed firmly

And

Grasping tight.
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