She Was Him, He Was Her


Poetry Partners # 29

She was him
He was her
They were one
They were free
She had eyes that knew
His heart’s glow
A smile that filled the space
When spring made its way to their eyes
In the zephyr’s abracadabra
All the places they were at a loss for words
They were cinder sparked by a flame that grew
Fed by warmth
Touch of a look
Running like blood in their veins

He had the wisdom of a young ink
Unstolen by time
Knowledge eternal
On eternity’s edge
Searching for a lost song
Their gently heaving breath finds the pulse of possibilities

Agolden shovel poemby ben Alexander of ‘The Skeptic’s Kaddish’

(inblank verse)

Temperature past the versing point, they
melted into glowing lava and were
blown with force through revelation's cinder
cone, as thick, boiling comprehension sparked
in their luminous core. Only then, by

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