synapses | sonnet thirty five posted by imani , Wednesday, August 24, 2011 at 1:17 PM, in Labels: ars poetica

my soul is not about to shut the
symphony of what makes us, and a
frame holds in the midst of it a staggering,
stuttering, smoldering intimacy,

a collapse of walls and logic, i follow
your voice, opening the sanctity
of all unknown mornings, drifting into
your arms, my lifetime, blood of

my blood, fire, passion, red, adoration
~ a few unembossed, untexted notions
that keep running in my head

burning fields, catching the insufferable
light of your love, of the infinite breaths
we have given and taken as we remain.