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Thursday, December 20, 2007


I am no word smith, and your name is no jewel-
Still, I find that your single syllable
Hits my mark
And resounds, ringing,
Shining on the tip of my tongue.
It is nothing like bubblegum
Or a peppermint
to make my breath fresh,
But I feel clean when we speak.
There is no stressed character
Or unique quality in the vibration,
Except that it is yours,
And nothing stirs my recognition
So much as the thoughts and memories tied to it.
So I will treasure your name,
In my way,
And breathe it aloud before I sleep-
What rose could sound as sweet?

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