literature

the meadow angel

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j0iedevivre's avatar
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Literature Text

he looked warm, like rain can be.
he said, with good talking - "there is a wild bird in my hands"

in fact it had taken angels
beneath its wings, in fact we loved it there,
big grass against our feet. We felt storms breaking.
We unbuttoned our silk skins and bared our sleek souls to the sky,
which pulsed stars that were coming-that have- come.
we started slow like a song, with wand sparks that hid in clothesfolds of lies,
and we broke the way dreams break when you let the world - take - them out of you
(we thought
we broke that way, anyhow. But I feel what it's like to

to lay

to close my eyes as God pulls the bedcovers over my body, which was dripping ink
between the ribs, which was staining my algebra notes, which I drank
when I could not drink anything. Because I could not swallow words

that did not
belong to you - when I look at you,
where I belong is looking back.


and all those years ago we broke because we let fear into our cereal.

but there are hearts that would not let us go.
they were ours, of course-- and so we never really broke.

There is nothing in the history of existences
like you

and I am spending my life, then, now, forver -
proving how delicately I love every curve of your laughter,
every quiet, fire, swell - of your spirit, which is gorgeous,
like saving. That is it; your spirit is like saving. Your spirit is the verb of saving...


I touch you.

I fold into the contours of your glory, your ocean heart,
your hands, which have arrested me as the trademarks of God-

we kiss and the doves have come;
we stand together, staring at time, knowing eternity is bottomless,
is without crack -
we hold fast to the vaccum we form:
there is no room in us to ever be afraid again.

We are so close            
that I am finally in working order,
we are finally who we have become-   (each other) -
because, as we said, with candlelight breath,


when i close my eyes, it's you i see;
when you close your eyes, i see you;

       when air goes down my throat
                 it fills
               your lungs  
                    .
you bathe me in candelight and everything burns with the good of how amazing it is to look up in the morning and feel, that, yes - your other soul wants to talk to you.


You are everything.

The fact that we exist
means nothing is broken. Not for long.
There is impenetrable light,
and we will listen to its ache forever
© 2009 - 2024 j0iedevivre
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am0rvincitomnia's avatar
My soul is reaching...