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as mornings
where the light is come
to spill across
my bed
faded cotton folded
holy praise

here the boards
are broken
tho one shall know
my steps –
a dance recalled to
memory that way

slanted doors
and rusted hinges
still I pull
you in
pressed against my ache

of chances
I’ve forgotten
where I left my heart
who the stars
to obey

. . .