“Juliet when we made love you used to cry,
I love you like the stars above,
Love you till the day I die,
There’s a place for us…”
Aqua-Blue flight-line
Slightly visible through palm fronds and her.
Hedonistic touches,
Back brushing berber cries,
And bliss.
Landing-light constant and consistent.
The overwhelming gust,
The exhale of Home and Safe.
Oh exalt and exhaustion.
Is there that place?
Are we those people?
Collectively conscience of creative collaboration, finding the truth?
Where is the crash course for coming of age taught?
And why would anyone want to forever hold their peace?
©DANIEL MORTON 2009
©DANIEL MORTON 2009
