~Forgotten Wings~

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the dirty blonde of his hair
tumbles down his head, whispers
across chin and upper lip in wisps
sunshine illuminating eyelids
as I watch, entranced,
he sleeps.

I cannot draw my eyes away
his quiet breathing sucks me in
I trace each line and indentation
tucking them inside me.

I drink of him and still I watch
though I have seen this all before
for me to look and him to be
is everything that I could need
and I am warmed from deep within
as, silently, I watch.



Last updated 5 September, 2002


Intellectual Property Rights denounced by Britt Gordon-McKeon, 2002