by Jazelle Handoush
We live in the hope for a single moment.
As heat rises crimson red to cheeks
we do brush from blush.
As breaths are stolen from lips
which speak in silence.
And as pounding, so exponentially
outstanding, beats beyond brain and breast.
We live in the hope for a sudden second
Where happiness is self-defined in
the method of the mind.
Where words are muddled with a meaning
we cannot comprehend.
Where sleep is a sudden show of secrecy
And where eyes tell of lies and sad stories.
We live
Yet we for granted take.
For those breaths come as blessing
With a last thought, last breath
We look around the smiling faces among us
And immediately the words come to mind.
Three words, eight letters
A lifetime.
Copyright 2011 | Jazelle Handoush
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