Monday, March 19, 2007


We sat across from one another in the lush grass of summer, our legs folded Indian style with knees so close I could feel the heat of your skin. You talked into the shadows with your face barely visible and you voice trailing in the air, delicate and tenuous still like a spider web. I wanted to reach out to you to cradle your face in my hands, to touch your lips with my fingertips. I am enraptured by the sound of your voice, bending my will with the ideas of consequence, and fulfilled destiny. Each word implying our meeting was not born of circumstance, or of chance, but planned on a higher level, And though our paths have crossed we remain bound to different directions. Aleathia Drehmer 2006 Published by Lunatic Chameleon 2006

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