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Thursday, December 30, 2010



They wake me, I beg their advice.

I place my right, open palm on my left wrist,
I place them both upon my chest. I tuck my head.
I assume this posture flat on my back.
Although I am in my bed, I mimic the stance of a bird,
Which stands with its wings folded tight upon its sides,
When it sleeps at night within a tree on a limb.

The leaves of a giant holly bush shelter me
Beneath its evergreen.

My voices urge me to repeat their verse once more,
To rehearse the words they reveal to me,
To write them that I might better recall my reverie,
And share it with my audience.

How many times, darling,
How many thousand times,
Have I told you that I am yours?

Oh love may I tell you one more time!

How many pens have I used to declare our love?

Surely to discard their emptied bodies would require
The space of many trashcans and barrels.

And how many oceans of ink and electronic script
Have flowed and been posted in our love's name?

Oh. love allow me to spill you oceans more,
And wildly post till my days are done.

How many worlds of hearts
Have burned and bled in love's cause?

Oh, love, I offer you one more.

How many tears over the eons and years
Have spilled past the brim of love's beakers?

Oh love might I ever stop my crying!

How many children in destiny's starry heavens of love
Have called your name
And have missed opportunity for life and form?

Oh love take me unto to you!

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