deepundergroundpoetry.com
We, Our Connect
When I weep, and yes lover, I weep for you
I do remember who we are...we, our connect.
In the Fall, we will know crisp autumnal hue
and dance on a polished farmhouse floor in Connecticut.
Everything we want comes through our give.
From all of these miles power flows from us
to reach into my back and to reach for your fingers
sensuality writ emotion that makes psychic touch
...and we are real. Overwhelm we may taste in tingles.
What I really want to say is that you...we are always together.
As distance makes walls deep, we walk through them.
Be in dream conversations or eucalyptus scented reiki
we entwine soul speak and spirit quietude in our everywhen.
And though now I weep pitiful absence, I smile to save me...
For the pain is but illusion, boundless hearts our real.
Chris Whitenack © 2014
I do remember who we are...we, our connect.
In the Fall, we will know crisp autumnal hue
and dance on a polished farmhouse floor in Connecticut.
Everything we want comes through our give.
From all of these miles power flows from us
to reach into my back and to reach for your fingers
sensuality writ emotion that makes psychic touch
...and we are real. Overwhelm we may taste in tingles.
What I really want to say is that you...we are always together.
As distance makes walls deep, we walk through them.
Be in dream conversations or eucalyptus scented reiki
we entwine soul speak and spirit quietude in our everywhen.
And though now I weep pitiful absence, I smile to save me...
For the pain is but illusion, boundless hearts our real.
Chris Whitenack © 2014
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