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My brain too long has had the sound and shape and nerve of breathless requiems. I want to feel my own rebirth in time and space come throbbing through the tips of each finger, flooding my dry veins with rich green sap and giving me new sight to every sense; making me whole again. I want to feel my spirit as before rippling with joy and dancing through my skull, so that, merged in adoration with my soul, I may once more have that power to fill my cup of life and love and find this consummation in her arms.
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
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My brain too long has had the sound and shape and nerve of breathless requiems. I want to feel my own rebirth in time and space come throbbing through the tips of each finger, flooding my dry veins with rich green sap and giving me new sight to every sense; making me whole again. I want to feel my spirit as before rippling with joy and dancing through my skull, so that, merged in adoration with my soul, I may once more have that power to fill my cup of life and love and find this consummation in her arms.
This is one of the poems just published in my collection of verse with annotated social, personal, and political comment, entitled Uncultured Pearls, available on Amazon.
joseph-sinclair
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
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