zzolo

The Door is Always Open

18 May 2006

Walked in on a sea of buckets and charades
that swept us out to a sailing sea, spiders
with two hands, and sun-spewing, pizza-baking
eyes. The whispering wind posed brighter,
breathing walls, but the swirly centipede swarm
scurries in the night–our hands toil.
We have been witnessed, you have been warned
that if all this ferocious fear, bug-black soil,
exploding dogs, emancipating drives, cascading
lives, and bottomless-tea aggregates, writhes
into a single brilliant point, it is your radiating
smile. It is no other–it reflects in my arduous eyes
that the karoke is only the start of, and the end
is a horizon we will find together, my dearest friend.

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