Wednesday, 5 November 2008

distances

one and one are two
a complicated mass of songs
singing through my hair
and a little whistle flows
through hers.

a symphony plays through
the wintry air and orange flowers
flow down in synchro.

miles of aromas, some shampoo
some morning breath, mingle
in still thoughts,an alchemy of colours,
disintegrating into a
monochrome of endless time.

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