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Saturday, June 21, 2008

Watering Down Myself

This life shimmying,
This sweet sweat from inside out
That melts the years of loss from me
With its wish wash of movement,
This dance of swaying trees, this subtle swish of hip,
As breath and age bemoans the passage of time,
Leads sweetly
To the less of me
That is,
I suppose,
Strangely
Most,
Or More,
Or Sadly, Slimly Slighter Site Sights(remembering smoky suppressing moments)
of
Me Before.
Gently,
The Tears are Exorcised,
But not the
Clean.
I bow, refreshed,
Surprised by a
Downsized Version of
Songs of Myself's Self.