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til I am no more
than a place that knew the wind
a tangled bit of hair
weaved across the ground
til I am melted with the winter
into what would be the sea
a glacier of ten thousand
patient mornings
rocked as one
upon the wave
– kept me sleeping
in my bed

how many nights
how many lives ago
til I am bloomed –
orchid from a vine of honey dew
and laid apart on silks
of silver queen –
walked along a meadow
between these fated points
where one was found
waiting for another

long enough
where silently
the breath of two became
a source of light
til I am nothing more
than one whose hands
were prone to write
a sceptor without word
to promise made when I am come
in wishes of surrender –
let then my name be yours
and yours for me

a place denied of judgment
a path erased from stone
where long ago returns –
a single breath
til all that’s left of me
is left of you