No paper, no pen
may i borrow the back of your hand
to complete a thought
and as i write with my fingertip
on the alluvial of your dreams
i do expect you to remember
what i have forgot
and the prayer appears in your eyes
deciphered
how could the helix hold such logic
and longings
the memory of sunrise in distant caves
and cryptic sighs
© 2004 Rick Forman |
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