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I cannot see, my words are tiny imperfections of gray skin that cover my eyes, their voices heavy purple bruises walking empty rooms; they search for mother's milk, the essence in leaves that brush death above old graves, rustle and converse in quiet languages against cold marble. My hands are earth, knotted and tangled roots attempting to grasp a million small things with fingers of blood; they threaten one another with quick territorial hissing, unwilling to share the day's lessons. You, my love, are white light sparkling in my glass, a wet aching that comforts me; always close and yet far, one who listens to wants, touch, warmth, and hunger, all at once, with no belief in the science of death-- leaving me simple and naked, an atmospheric pulse humming riddles and counting syllables.
Michael Ladanyi's first poetry chapbook, Palm Shadows, was released in June 2002 by Purple Rose Publications. His poetry has appeared widely in the US and other countries in both print and online literary journals, including Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, Snow Monkey, The Circle, Poetry Greece, Maxis Review, Joey and the Black Boots, Poetry Super Highway, PoetryRepairShop, Concrete Wolf, Red Booth Review, Ascent, and Kimera. He is the creator and co-editor of Adagio Verse Quarterly (http://www.geocities.com/adagioversequarterly/Adagio_Verse_Quarterly.html) and a contributing poetry reviewer with the UK magazine, Write-Away-Poetry. He maintains a large poet/writer resource site at: http://www.geocities.com/poet662002/. He lives in the foothills of the North Georgia Mountains with his wife and two daughters.
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