Interjecting lines beneath
What’s really going on
Never thought I’d find my self again
But here I am
Amidst the wind-strewn remnants
All that’s left of the pieces of what I used to be
Rebuilt by circumstance into something more whole
Holy-wrought
Brought back to reality
Every time I leave her bed
This wind has cleansed my soul
The cosmos beneath her skin
Greater understanding comes
From this chance meeting of un-sin
Purified and tempered continuously
In this forge that exists in
The ǣther between us
Aug 25, 2011
Aug 25, 2011 at 10:24 PM UTC
Interjecting lines beneath
What’s really going on
Never thought I’d find my self again
But here I am
Amidst the wind-strewn remnants
All that’s left of the pieces of what I used to be
Rebuilt by circumstance into something more whole
Holy-wrought
Brought back to reality
Every time I leave her bed
This wind has cleansed my soul
The cosmos beneath her skin
Greater understanding comes
From this chance meeting of un-sin
Purified and tempered continuously
In this forge that exists in
The ǣther between us
Request permission to use this poem