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If

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A disembodied voice was in my ear
with layered tones I never did expect
to come from her. Its sound was full, sincere,
with laughter there and always star-bedecked.
To dance upon those suns in playful praise
produced in me a joy I hadn't known
for many moons of empty mournful days —
at last, my melancholy overthrown.
But while that fluted palette fills my mind
some other, lower, thought assails my smile
(becoming with our tryst now intertwined)
which will not with desire be reconciled:
  If she were not now with somebody else
  I'd gladly give to her all of myself.

◄ Anger Mismanagement

Winter Romance ►

Comments

<Deleted User> (8943)

Sun 19th Jun 2011 09:52

Such melancholy, lovely phrases, "fluted palette", "thought assails my smile"

This is well written & flows nicely, a lovely read, thanks...

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