david jewell poet

words. photos. images. whatnot.

diari unui mgeni.

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entry 1.

 

I see other hoodwinks.

I hear other distances.

palm open wide. . .

martian landscape above.

 

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No matter how long I watch her, or hear her smoky voice,

or listen to her hot words, while her lips caress the language,

or how closely I watch her dance, and swing her hair around––

she is like a beautiful mystery, forever unfolding,

like watching the ocean~~wave after wave, from infinity to

infinity, luscious, dripping, ripe like swollen fruit.

 

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