Silk Or Cinnamon

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I understand the search
The take-aim at the unknown for the purpose of purpose and peace

Back up to the moment when it slipped from our skin and we continued along, with barely a downward glance 

Feel from afar that moment we made the choice
To compromise
To acquiesce 
To call our own another’s yes

And be resolved

That unless there’s silk or cinnamon involved
To never slip again 

My Damn Smile

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Where…my mind’s eye searches for
…just a footprint, a proof. 
Like a phantom limb haunts
Dares me to remember

Why…did it flee and what fear
…stole it and stripped my blood
Of the warmth it once shone
Of evidence of the glee

All…interrogatories
…are irrelevant now
All that matters is That
I reclaim what is mine

Your Call

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From several floors below

You scream to me for dear life 

A deep, earnest, raspy plea 

And although I cannot tell exactly what you need from me

The beautiful desperation in your voice

Has awakened me finally and I will give you all that I have

One + 3 = 7: A Haiku

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I’ve 7 Babies
They’re born of you and me and
a woman I know

They’ve inherited
our courage and our kindness
They do love the deep

Battling big dragons,
they can lose their compass mark
-but rise each morning

Each epic, wide-eyed
one of them knows their value
and teaches us ours

Rocking their theme-songs
like a soundtrack in their souls,
their every breath chimes

The colors they keep
ebb and flow and radiate
from their words, their walk

They don’t question love
They live with ferocity
They know what they know

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Photo: 7 Little Haiku Truths