Friday, September 28, 2007

Missing You, III

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Missing You III

are your lips as soft as I dreamt them last night
when you came to me and whispered rough hungers
and thirsts like the deserts of trackless sand
that stand and shift and mock the hand of life
that would banish the burnt and barren forevers
if unleashed by the word and will of a goddess,
willing to sacrifice only her pride for resurrection
as something more alive than an equatorial forest.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

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    Explaining the Tags

    You will note, gentle reader, that all works under this blog now display "tags" to help classify and assign the works for your review and enjoyment.

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    Year of writing, e.g. "1999"
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