Sunday, 24 June 2007


i sit here on your wings,
the winds of love scattered across my face,
i sit here bleeding white,
bleeding for the pains of what faces us.

the hangman smiled at me,
i sit here on the wings of the hangman's daughter,
the hangman smiles a million arrows,
how dare i toil with this precipice?

should i fall,i shall remain smiling,
for here i sit,
on your wings.

for here i sit onyour heart,
here i sit trying to make sense of this wind i feel,
smiling in the face of the hangman,
who has dominion of all but the wing which i sit upon.

the wings of your love,
so it is
so it is.
this unfaltering, comfortable bed of feathers
burying faults and flaws in the rows of natures creation,
painted by the winds of your love.

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