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A Space Lay Empty The scent of past prime jasmine flowers Hangs thick on anxious air Bloomed this day while I am gone, In my heart Someone has cut A small hole So all passion’s fierce bile Has leaked out, Soaked deep now in embrace of earth Coursing like molten veins, A dusty quiet fills my mind Sprinkled on scattered paper piles, All these thoughts have hushed to hear The sagging sigh of sleep. Children in Raincoats We move through Time like Children in raincoats Marching home from school, Their tails trailing long into the evening Faintly recalling spritely morning showers, Devoid of time’s impermanence – The catharsis of past Deeply repulsed by the soul, Only when the partition of sleep Wakes dawn in the spirit’s chest Drowsily do we shake off its crystallized remains. Imperfection finds its home In a tea cup Lives a crack A child charting a sea of grass, To claim its proper path, Where does it go When its house is dispersed Back to mosaic earth? Donor I cling to his shirt Like a young grape Plucked from a hearty vine Dragging with it the stem, They urge her to check off more boxes That each one will serve as a conduit An umbilical cord from Heaven To Jerusalem, A reminder So that each piece – cornea, Kidney, marrow, tissue, Will be another small peephole Through which one could look To observe a diorama of paper mache And flesh, It is bright and warm A screen door keeps the flies outside, A single cloud drifts lifelessly across the sky Punctured here and there, Intensified light Radiating through, I hold on tight to cover the missing spots. Return to ABOUT. |
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