Thursday, April 2, 2015

Dipole

By Michelle Fetalvero

     Photo from Google Images


We, parallel beans
 seated on red sand --

 Strings unseen
 In the height of my dreams
 Your tiny lingers

 Your Fire succumbed to my Coldness,
 to the most romantic night.
 Never we will bump

Till you fill in my blank --
 Intersecting in deep Mirage
 Unclothed we dance -----
 Sweetly --- our Vines intertwined ---
 Our greens sprout, smilingly ---

We, parallel beans ---
seated on red sand.

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