Sunday, May 22, 2011

3098. LIKE SHANGRI-LA

LIKE SHANGRI-LA
Between foresteps of indirection
and a bushel-full of rhyme, I saw
you standing in the rain, drenched from
head to foot. You, not me. It was truly
a wondrous sight. I gauged my eyes
by your composure and saw, in that
way, by what demeanor we'd stay in
place. Little pleasures don't often take
such grace. You smiled like a curtsy
first as rainwater seeped your grin.
-
Meanwhile, I managed to stand with
my hands in my pockets. Deliriously
enamored, abated of interest in any
other world, the slinking portrayal of
a portrait-sitting damsel stayed fresh
in my watery mind. You were so liquid,
so fresh. New paint dripped from
your eyes like water.

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