can love let you in or waste your time? i send

you rhythms: promise, as i think of it, promise,

an order of grasping, that i will never judge

anyone i have ever loved- for

i still love them. they catch me in my acts of

 

angel-wing hopings; telling everything

about sundials- my tea is cold and the sachet

is day-old. so little

it is that i know. happy

 

for the solar system i am. there are

corners in the world and i am among them

 

endless inner-seams seeking balance, suck-

of-light; poor god, give me back

my just-being-a-dream.

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