by Catherine Browning

                                    in my dreams we dance

                                    perfectly matched

                                    to the tune that plays

                                    over and over.

                                    then, like spiders,

                                    we spin our webs over each other

                                    wanting to possess for the moment

                                    the beauty we see . . .

                                    to keep it safe from other eyes;

                                                forgetting that beauty

                                    to be beautiful

                                    must be shared;

                                                forgetting that love

                                    to be love

                                    must be given away;

                                                forgetting that people

                                    are to be cherished

                                    not for the moment but forever.

                                    i cherish you

                                    i am your guardian of beauty.

                                    i don’t possess you–

                                                you are free

                                    but keep always a place

                                    in your soul swept for me

                                    as i keep a place in my soul

                                    for you.


by Catherine Browning

                        next time we meet

                        let’s open the doors separating us

                        so we can hear the words

                        we say and

                        clean the windows of our minds

                        to see clearly the angles

                        of our deception.

                        let’s crawl inside the sun

                        in the name of life and love,

                        remembering that

                        we could get burned.

                        next time we meet

                        it’s possible we will be polite, cool,

                        not knowing the other’s mind,

                        hesitating to be the first

                        to play the fool

                        even if we sacrifice

                        the opportunity to love.

                        let’s run naked through an orange grove,

                        baring even our souls

                        to the sun

                        next time we meet.

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