A Riddle for the Beloved, by Angel Brynner 2013

I wonder where you are as clouds rip open & rain takes flight, beating coolly against panes of hot glass i don’t feel pressed under. The rhythm of you in my head a waltz acted out across diasporas grounded in the splice of my blood, a heady melody that marches on,drags softly across the aspects freed from me due to inexplicable happiness alongside the idea of you, crossing hearts & marching on again & again until the thought of breath itself feels like an airy fairytale unearthed in wet bones aware they were once dry.


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