February 20, 2009


This warm caress.
After a snow-night.
East, west and the sky on top.
Illuminating the dusticles
On my spectacles.

This warm caress.
At 7.07 a.m.
Fingers the deadlines in my toenails.
And beingness of being.
And days lit up.

It is a convex glass.
Between the sky and I.
That speaks hushedly.
It has been a snow-night.
And now for it to thaw.
A warm caress.

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