Throw back my drink
The soul burnning aching
of frivolous fear
is an aching crease
in my caring blown-tree
of selfless intrigue
and celeste persona
and blind wisemen
drink handfuls of
woman's persona
I bathe in dusks warm
embrace and I fall
backwards into the
wide open hole of my soul
and I wonder on the situation
of the moment
I throw back my drink and
marvel at the grace of my
life and the simplicity of birth
Copyright © Donovan Whittaker | Year Posted 2006
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