Sweet wine touches my lips
Shadow puppets dance on walls
Where thoughts are greeted
Neatly stacked in rows that meet the eye
A birds eye view of a rabbit that dares
Hoping to hide itself in the shadows
Where upon it meets the fate
Of the sleeping viper
There is no hunger or desire
That can replace the memory of your lips
Sweet wine turns sour upon my tongue
Thickened hides that dry in the sun
Only remind me of your absence
The lady who floats enters into my dreams
Haunting my mind with her perfume
She rests upon the dune
As I transform into a bird of flight
Soaring high in search of you
I fly but my hands are tied
Therefore I have no wings to search for you
Blindly my search ends in futility
Elusively you follow in your own shadow
Just out of reach of my inner soul
~Moses~
© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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