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jennifer steinfeldt  warren

May 12, 2005 at 1:15 PM


The walk was Nightside on my face
skyside black-
no violence in an early a.m. air.
No beating sun,
no breaking sweat.
The streets hollow like a womb
before the assualt of life.

The inspiration was light whispers through fabrics-
no hurry between what has been or
what is to be.
My voice was wet in my throat,
a careless speech suddenly important,
clear, alive.

The nightlines blended thick, slow.
Always-anxious eyes turned into each
steadied still:
running iris between thumb and finger of
a detailed beauty
just too distant for discern or tremble.

I reach for you-
threading a reflection of Nirvana
through your palm.

The nightwalk-
my new and fearless view of night
on this side of dark.

From Pauline Lerner
Posted on May 13, 2005 at 4:25 AM
JW, that was beautiful. The ending took me completely by surprise.

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