The Essentials

There he goes, singing his song for me
and I respond,
plunging my hand into his heart.

I separate his life blood –
the cool ripples
entangle my fingers
demanding to never be released.

And even as I lift my hand
he clings to me
as to remind me
that he and I will always be,
that his blood flows with mine,
and now when I hear his song, it comes from within.

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Posted on August 18, 2010, in Rosemary Carroll and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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