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til I’ve forgotten
how to breathe –
let this be my one
reserve of truth
the last I knew
another way would come
a shallow breath
neglected –
forsaking all for this
e’en now my heart
is sated
by my name
upon your lips
sassafras and berry
vines to draw me near
frozen creeks
fields of winter hay
morning waits
whatever dreams
are mine to understand
wherever you –
I will find a way

. . .