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An Ode to Your Lull





And there you sigh, receptively,


as across your palm-faces I sweep my own broomy knuckles,
    like the hem of a dusty autumnal dress
    unwoven by moths and fire and unending, pending repudiation.

I,
like hair swept away slowly,
a cool jar rinsed soapless on a windowsill,
a nestless fledgling coddled,

have been hushed.











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Comments

  • tara wilson gold member
    May 21, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    actually this is one of the most beautiful poems I've read in a very long time Bookmarked, I will want to read it again


    • rendezvous
      May 21, 2008
      Edit | Reply
      Thank you! Pleased to please you (parenthetically, I just realized that this is the 16th poem in row that I've written about my Lover!)
      Oh, what Love does for the muse...

  • tara wilson gold member
    May 21, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    this is very beautiful. ..i love these lines...

    "I,
    like hair swept away slowly,
    a cool jar rinsed soapless on a windowsill,
    a nestless fledgling coddled,

    have been hushed."