1 Sept 2009
last summer dance
here I am
my bare feet scuffle leaves on cold evening grounds
westerly wind curls eyelashes and tickles the back of my neck
I can hear the fox nearby
and
I am finally ready for it
me and the other half of my shadow will dance to celebrate the secrets and sorrows of this grand summer
I wish that all the waters would stop flowing for that moment filled with stubborn grace
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