Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Cotton curl memoirs


Like smoke gliding through my memories,
your cotton curls fade and shine,
among white clouds.
(i'd float in)

i touch your curls with my mind,
as soft as ever, as present as ever,
a vision to my fingertips.
(living in my thoughts)

how could i tell,
how could i have known,
such a phoenix i'd find.

how could i tell,
how could i have known,
she'd burn a herself a home,
a space she kept apart,
inside my heart.