SATURDAY 14th FEBRUARY 2009.

A dip in breathing
Where a drop of breath seems to leave me
Once inside; a slip,
On exiting, is propped between those ribs
That receive me.

Thin ink reigns,
Exhibiting the fact that I was complicit in
The letter’s flesh,
Where thinking is enacted in the spray of
Humbled wishes

By flicking at
The fractions that inhabit the dictionary’s
Attic; picking
Up the facts I feel have added my flash to
Their rich care.

And brushed of
Bruises, and their busted tissue layers, I’ve
Set my mention;
Rushing off to rust now it’s been posted to
A listing prayer.

So rip a page of
Your own, and rope it to mine to conduct
Our story; tipped
And soaped in the waters of the word and
It’s beloved book.