these waters on which we tread
don't seem so deep
on the first glance --
not so cold,
that love had no chance --
but once surrounded,
they get murky,
and where we find ourselves,
not so plainly bounded;

who are we
to blithely cast aside
a lovely mystery,
a new-found tide,
made to ebb
just for you and me?

wrong and right
get cloudy late at night,
and solace gleams
in neverending dreams
of knowing you,
wrapped in bedclothes,
wrapped in my arms so tight,
wrapped in my arms so tight;

water is deeper
when viewed in the light.

March 21, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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