love will kiss
the weary, a storm
at night on a tin roof
over the face, hands
toes
rain will kiss
the dry,
water seeping through the
sand into the heart, where
lips will be kissed
and mercy, in the corners
of the roundest places
like angels will kiss
away
ignorance
which is never bliss;
"only bliss is bliss"
(my friend John always says)
1 comment:
An insightful, healing poem.
Wedging between what is inwardly known and hoped for.
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