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it is in dove's ways how i love you and it is no common sight to take glory out of what this life ever so defiles with its uncouth hands. in the way that i soar with my unnameable wings over your territories finding shade, clinging with the wind, my mothered world in the eclipse of a day's turning - where together with the fleshly rivulets i am unafraid to trample the night with lithe sound: a wing's flutter echoes through the caves of your mouth deepening in primeval silence. stones woven earthly, intricate as a bed of mendaciloquence where truth lies stripped to the bone of the very voice of it. oh and what solace waits for me yonder hills that recognize my stretch - even the shadows rejoice in their fill of my passing elegies yet, no love shall die! night arrives drowsily over these planes that seek me, and i cascade as gentle as a pond girdling your ample fish that i viscerally own, thriving inside me, whirling in graceful fire. the morning takes me with you, its duty speaks where i was once sterile without path - you take mine flight and hover past everything, spreading garlands that would name all of them, ours!
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 2:14 AM UTC
Dove
it is in dove's ways how i love you and it is no common sight to take glory out of what this life ever so defiles with its uncouth hands. in the way that i soar with my unnameable wings over your territories finding shade, clinging with the wind, my mothered world in the eclipse of a day's turning - where together with the fleshly rivulets i am unafraid to trample the night with lithe sound: a wing's flutter echoes through the caves of your mouth deepening in primeval silence. stones woven earthly, intricate as a bed of mendaciloquence where truth lies stripped to the bone of the very voice of it. oh and what solace waits for me yonder hills that recognize my stretch - even the shadows rejoice in their fill of my passing elegies yet, no love shall die! night arrives drowsily over these planes that seek me, and i cascade as gentle as a pond girdling your ample fish that i viscerally own, thriving inside me, whirling in graceful fire. the morning takes me with you, its duty speaks where i was once sterile without path - you take mine flight and hover past everything, spreading garlands that would name all of them, ours!
windsor-i-guadalupe-jr
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 2:14 AM UTC
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