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I will search
on fertile banks
where marigold is nestled
startled by the rivers

I shall reach
for tiny crescents
buried by the sand –
in broken trusts
twisted with my hair
I will wait
as I have waited
for the time
to find you there

did I tell you once
of paths I roamed
with a dream
suffered want unholy
to dream again –
I shall wait

as nights
beyond the wandering
in places
I have feared
in afternoons
where sunlight comes
to play

. . .