Friday, 25 January 2013

On Boundary

Walking naked now
through your quiet immensements
and I am pregnant 
with a knowing:

your boundary
like mine
rebounds with touch -
too little; too much.

Mine reaches out before me,
an invisible field, pushed 
from heart-length
to arm's length

bristled by the slightest brush.
Just respect me:
don't correct me.
Don't bottleneck me.

If you want love,
build it.
Make castles in the sky,
but try not to brush the clouds.

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