Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Love Song
My boots play a symphony of clicks,
Singing
An insatiable thirst
For freshly painted Earth.
As they reach the threshold,
They drink the sky first;
Snagging pieces of the blue on their way down,
Till their teeth
Slice against green blades
And chew the face of springtime
Into a mess of sweaty bliss.
The aroma of battle glistens on their fervent faces –
Waiting, waiting, waiting…
Till the whistle blows,
The ball flies,
And those boots of mine give chase to tell me:
We are in love.
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2 comments:
that's weird!
well, so am I.
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