Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Poem #143 of 365

We flirt with the sharpest things, our knives
and our blades to clean and to cut, to
trim up our trails.

We bleed with the thickest blood, our pulse
in red suds to drip and to surge, to
clog up our towels.

We swim in the deepest sea, our fins
and our gills to breathe and to dive, to
float up our tears.

We read in the darkest room, our words
and our books to think and to grow, to
pile up our truths.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez

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