Sunday, January 25, 2015

The Taj




and there she stood
like moon dust
in back light,
a demure bride
looking up
from behind
a veil
that doesn't
become her;
mesmerizing
hearts
that wander
and lust
after worldly things,
with her pure
fierce love;
they stand
before her -
stripped,
bewitched,
by her silent song
of love
resting
her hungry
wings.

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