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* * *
I want to write about you
With your name to prop the crooked fence
The frozen cherry tree
About your lips
To form curved stanzas
About your lashes to lie taht they are dark
I want
To weave my fingers through your hair
Find a nook in your throat
Where with a muffled whisper
The heart defies the lips
I want
To mix your name with stars
With blood
To be inside you
Not to be with you
To vanish
Like a raindrop soaked into night
* * *
on a dust-covered road I search for your lips.
I bend over and look under each moss-wrapped stone.
coiled into spirals snails sleep in moist shade.
I wake them and ask where is he? they stretch out their drowsy
horns peek from their shells squint at the sun.
and vanish saying nothing. I ask the stone smooth
its rough surface with my warm hungry hand. it's silent.
I ask the sun. it bends its head to the west and I go
after the sun westward to find you.