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Close to the borderline   |   of distance 

I found pastel horizons

placid like the ideal mind,

only in reach to the woman

who can walk on waters combined. 


Close to the borderline   |   of doubt

I slid under hibernating fog,

absently shrinking into oceanic blue,

unaware that I was filling your sunflower vase

with enraptured dew.


Close to the borderline   |   of nothing

I fell into an empty well,

flooded it with my own self-pity

and floated amongst declining memories,

only finding reason in limestone reflections. 


Close to the borderline   |   of you

I decorated my pit with cut out daffodils

and cherry painted windmills.

My smile was as silver as seaside dusk

and your soul was as gold as an ivory tusk.


Close to the borderline   |   of love

I felt your touch deep between my breasts,

your words buried into my chest 

and built their residence into a silk nest.

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