Tuesday, January 08, 2008

Two: Light Box

the photo
was like a dream last

sad conversation
my mouth her skin

image moving through water (imagine)

heaving her chest
pushed the sky up

we were good at it
when we were desperate

the dream was
a photo morning morning morning

light can cure sadness
and some parts of our surface

as if the earth would turn
around a wound

I am
vulnerable (word as liable word as hazard word as disaster
word as open to)

when I believe
in something (word as sail)

word as holding
wind in your hand


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