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Letter # 17

May 18, 2012

At dinner

it takes days to cross her face

her laughter flutters in my head

like a caged bird

and her fingertip resting lightly on the tablecloth

pins  my tongue down


her words crumble-

syllables fall  through  her lashes-

It’s late.

and I’m drunk from the sound of her heels

on the sidewalk.







( some recent drawings from Spring Studio and a private session)


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7 Comments leave one →
  1. Asia @ Cape Cod Dreams permalink
    May 18, 2012 4:38 pm

    Wow what a beautiful poem! I love it!

  2. May 18, 2012 11:24 pm

    we continuously remark on the vitality of the gesture in your sketchings – powerful work – the use of color always unique. I particularly like the ink? is it? the scribbly sketches without color in this set…thank you for sharing your work always

  3. May 19, 2012 11:11 am

    Pondering: beautiful poem, gorgeous images…thx for sharing! RT

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