one of a few, mutterances;
you're "killing me!"
every poem of yours delights, enchants,
you are blossoming
and i ear and eat your poem petals,
your white rose petals,
so tritely perfect,
to the hard word floor,
freshly enlivening,
freshly dying,
and hope
my, my mind stays quiet.
though my
breathing pounds,
an overboard sailor,
washed ashore
by the surf in a
Baltic Sea storm
i read you,
and I am there,
i read you,
and then i'm gone,
taken,
i'm taken,
i'm taken away
but my body yet lies,
a fallen victim to the power,
your word~ly empowering,
to imagine
