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Edge Of A Dream

by Theresa Cecilia Garcia © 2006

   When showers tumble
   and blackbirds sing,
   when wind replies
   on a white storm birds
   wings,
   I see your face
   through caves unseen
   in the heartland
   a lone vulturine.

   When ebony loops of hair
   catch the light of a
   transient star,
   when waves crash high
   on loafty coastlands
   and the earth responds
   with treble, tenor, bass
   and flair,
   I see your face,
   I see you there.

   Drifting on the edge
   of sleep,
   wandering down golden halls
   of circling champagne,
   I take a drink
   through shimmering glass
   doors,
   melting with the heat
   of liquid gold,
   I see your face
   I feel you there.

   Escasty's slow thrumming
   pulsing through me,
   on the edge of sleep
   the bayou blinks,
   sarcasm borders on flirtation
   sweet villain calls,
   there is no training
   for this clambering rose.

   Gallant soldiers
   die in vain,
   through rhythmic drumming
   my orgasm's lame,
   only you
   know my full name
   low laughs the wind
   you have me tamed.

   When I look up
   at the dawning past
   I catch my breath
   at the unconscious trick
   of time,
   When love has risen
   to its ethereal shape
   Thy dearest songs,
   Thy touch not yet known,
   Who's in the next room?
   Who lives here?
   His name I must not tell,
   the one and only
   I love too well.

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