Saturday, May 7, 2005

Cathartic: purgative


I steel myself with beams of moonlight
that no longer skim metallic in base-relief
on the bark of the lover-tree.

Useless, they fall with a clamor
into shade a decade old.
This is a place marked indelibly

by the crossing of lovers where dust hides
how you made me envy my name on your lips.

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