tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90290884956330585842011-09-20T03:58:19.902+08:00and go over the moon.IyangCruznoreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9029088495633058584.post-32226498340150887832010-12-22T18:11:00.002+08:002010-12-22T18:31:11.475+08:00strange fellow is she who finds comfort in words<br />who finds dry beds of words like a winter couch<br />she, without hesitation, jumps in a plop<br />onto that warm other world while<br />tentacles enclose her and thrust her <br />into verbal maelstrom, spinning <br />whirling from dryness of dark earth<br />while ancient groan mates mirth<br />and ecstasy duels agony <br />where delight and delirium<br />ends when the end page is flipped<br />and all the day was just words, mere words<br />now tucked neatly, nameless, on dry wood.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">(Leah Cruz, 3 December 2009)</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9029088495633058584-3222649834015088783?l=kissmypoet.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>IyangCruznoreply@blogger.com0