pearls

Mapping the Route There

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2007/01/16
Mapping the Route There

Every transformation has
A fixed point, so I'm told,
That does not move nor
Show change nor age,
But knows its only home.

I should not be awake.
The sedatives have been
Of no effect, not this night.
Arctic wind shakes the window.
I want to find where it's from.

A single fingernail maps
My escape there, from my legs
Around your back to our arms.
You are dreaming as you should,
My warm breath on your face.

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