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Thursday, January 17, 2013

First Second Third

I stood masculine
Dark and unseeing
As the mighty oak
Full of rustling leaves
Fluttering in the wind
As the butterflies in my stomach
Swirling trying to escape
I'd run screaming in terror
But for my achluophobia
Holding me in place

You held fast
Unseeing eyes darting
Unmoving as the forest around
But for the song of the leaves
Played by the winds
Just as the corporeal you
Stroked by nature's bow
Sending out a sine wave note
Without any movement
As if you could
Coated in the ink of night
And your dim dread

The man stood
In blindness
Still as a tree
Full of quivering leaves
Vibrating in the wind
So does his body
With energy contained
But rooted in place
With no roots
But a fear of the dark

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