Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Poetry: Girl


All win her smile
But few like me seek her frown.
Her callousness takes
The air from within me,
So I smile and laugh.

Her wall-eyed gaze, 
Though veiled by hair 
Of dark shadows, I return.

She thrills me with
Dervish dancing;
Her partners more fleet than I.
Her fingers tap rhythm
On every surface, hinting at
Her inner song.

Murmuring, she soothes 
By conversation:
The languid heat of her, 
Pressed full against mine.

With joyous, howling laughter,
I brace myself against her strength,
In awe of her fury:
To battle her is to feel alive.

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