only by the softest touch

Hyacinth garden

with a request from pleasures an echo is heard

resurrect desire found in a four letter word

dreams travel

like flash bulbs
igniting hope
and then gesticulating

in unconcerned pose

in a corner of the attic I hid that illusion
a color print obscured by many boxes
in shadows sitting strident
comfortably desperate with no prediction of soft salvation

around the edges
on tip of tongues
reaching for words
but only tasting dust

a tempting goddess lay on covetous cloud

and try the deafening siren that is so loud

predictable relegation, in shapes that are sometimes too much

this somber gray sorrow is lightened only by the softest touch...

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