Monday, January 17, 2011

A Distraction Of Words While Cleaning My Room

To my passport,
Cleaning, I tuck you away safely beneath folded cotton
in the far corner of my room.
You are so neglected these days, my love.
Forgive me.
It is a parting neither of us desire,
but a necessary evil in these days,
the days of interim.
In this time of quiet,
I pray that you keep well,
and dream of better days ahead.
Days filled with ink for your pages,
and the breath of life for me.
A life that for now,
is stilled in dream,
as you are stilled,
safely beneath folded cotton,
in the far corner of my room.

Some day, my dear one,
the far corners of the Earth.
For now, rest well, until for us both,
the time of resurrection uplifts us,
if only in coach.

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