Sunday, 4 July 2010

OneHundred And ThirtySeven


Weaving and pushing and being in sync,
Like breathing.
Heads moving and mouths whispering.
Teeth pearly white against the hot red of my mouth.
Together we make a peaceful sound.
Together it makes a Beautiful noise.


Suddenly I am aware of being apart of it.
I helped to make something beautiful.
I shiver in disbelief.

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