Monday, January 10, 2005

tropic of capricorn

Night of the winter solstice; dark snow-dreams blink upon eyelids closed
confessions are ripe, waiting to be found in the starry face of the great bear
fires are lit; bodies contort and meld with the flamesparks, ghostly ghasts
shaping five point ids.  The winds call me home to taste pristine icemen.

I cannot bear this parting, I won't be found until morning finds me again.
This long night of the year, its darkness, comfort only softness can imitate;
seems to be a haven in this madass world of bright lights and anti-christs.
I wish I could hold you now, under the tropic of Capricorn, touched in sun.

Dreaming of distant places
inspire me

2 bric à brac

Anonymous Anonymous said...

What kind of distant places?
-- Jason

7:25 PM  
Blogger Karen said...

Somewhere warm and far..south of the equator -- somewhere they don't speak english and I have to learn a new language

10:38 PM  

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