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names have come
(more often)
to places
without none
dreams I never dreamed
would come (undone)
patchwork of the living
the coffee has grown cold –
as destinies (foretelling)
long ago

to wonder
(as I’m known to do)
where and when
and whether
the path was come
as (fated) – I to choose

the ways before
and all at once
familiar I am finding –
of a light
(I thought) I knew

here –
have you forgotten
the color of my eyes –
places (I am still)
I loved you so
long before the wondering
got the best of me
you were come –
my soul)

. . .