Predilection Edict
If possession is nine-tenths of the law
entirely, you're mine
though cosmically, empirically
we lack the ties that bind
For naught these thoughts
escape me through the river of the day
while every beryl and burst of you
contain me as they stay
And while the very air we breathe
is cycled through our distance
I know that even air succumbs
to love in sweet resistance
If possession is nine-tenths of the law
then what am I to do?
for obligingly, surprisingly
I now belong to you.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
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