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Love's Threadbare Whisper


She looks thinner.
Limbs, hanging on by a threadbare whisper, a slight rustle and a loving grace, she soars.
Listen to her plea!
Heed her tongue crackling with sorrow!
She begs for us to see!

She does not long for us to fail- fail her, fail Love, fail creation, fail Grandmother, fail Grandfather, fail. Laughter’s etched with our names on her skin like a tattoo engraved by Love.
Wear it proudly.
Wear it lovingly.
Wear it.

She looks ill with man’s use.
She seems to be nearing her tolerance.
Oh! Let us prop open our eyes by ceasing the noise found in our machines!
The greatest invention ever imagined remains the Heart(H) of Love, his bride, an eternal eartH.
Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump!

We cannot forgo the truth.
The truth tarries not.
The truth does not hold her tongue, she speaks plainly-
rumble, quake, groan- she Loves without condition save that we-
boom, rattle, thump echo- Love, Love, Love, Love…


© 2011 by mark prime


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