(BEYOND) THE STORMCLOUDS OF REGRET

1.                      :saturday morning

Last night
you took me flying in the
blue&clearly skies of experience
:   an icarean dream
,these wings of loving in the furnace of desire

(& not one feather charred)

 

2.                      :sunday morning

Today
as we sipped our revelation
like 3children at a stream   ,I knew
what children have not learned to unknow.That
boys&girls are but expressions of the same love
in different tongues

(& every heart translates)

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