vineri, 19 octombrie 2012

Moving passion

To my beautiful subway stranger.

here I stand,arms flooded with cotton weights
and peculiar eyes,waiting for a ride,
a faster clock,a stronger sense of pride...
then I see you- I do not flinch,
yet my body shifts towards your
silent magnetism:
plain clothes,auburn hair,lips as light
as feathers brushed against a blank page-
I wish to be released,but your unaware grace 
ties an invisible knot around my legs,
around my hips,above my neck...
leaving the hallow earth becomes a sacrifice 
of unidentified proportions,while your path
and careless walk remain the same;
you will never know I wrote this poem for you
nor will I ever guess whether your gaze met
my being by fleeting and divine accident-
you are now a ghost,a living and breathing ghost...

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