Ludos

a game, dearest,
our game, by birthright and blessing
where laughter and kisses fly about, light
as the multitudinously pleasing butterflies.

yet sometimes upon parting
something, like my backbone, shifts
and with terrible, beautiful newness i discover how not to breathe
and our everhungry mouths hover and forget how to meet and move
and i am wholly uncertain how to be

except with you.

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~ by mechante on February 27, 2007.

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