The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. ~Vladimir Nabakov

Tuesday, January 4, 2011


Fused one earth they share
Yet alone they stand
Inhaling this hot universal air
Year upon year unbent are the words
They must hear inside
Catching wishes with a net
Mended from the holes
One shall be granted soon I bet
Alone again in the quiet dream
As they hide their faces
Resolution awakens within
Bound by rising tides
To relive, laugh and feel free
It echoes in their hearts pending burst
Eventually giving way
Like a firefly seeking a night
Resting wings so broken
Yet committed to take a flight
So unspoken within is their solitude
In undertaken journeys

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