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were that I
a solemn prayer
a bumble bee or wasp
the smile to break apart
against your sigh
ancient recognition
warmth exceeding warmth
a feeble cry
braced against the night
were that I
the best of times
the truth in all you know
a tattoo of my need
to match your own
every kiss
the taste of me
muscadine and flame
cold and reckless
remember me
the same

. . .