sluice

when i ask to be taken you give me back to myself. what is this light, this river? i ask you to be the current running through me. instead, you open the sluice-gates and let go and the river washes both of us away.

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time is distance and distance is distance

1. time is distance and distance is distance and the heart aches to cross both, yearning across boundaries, loving across boundaries. i build a nest in my heart, furnish it lavishly, comfortably, keep it warm for when you return. you step inside, melting me with a smile and a simple, frank, “i love you,” and…

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the heart is a muscle as strong as the body

you’re running away to join the circus you’re running so hard toward your dreams you’re flying and i’m crouched here in the garden, both hands in the soil, growing roots i can only hope you’ll someday return to. i plant my heart in this warm and increasingly fertile earth while your heart grows wings to…

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held askew by beans

you like to see a little dishabille in me and i can give you this — i know how it’s done. i like a little dishabille in the garden, myself. sunflowers blooming in twenty directions, giant stalks tipped sprawling and prickly across the path. tomatoes vining up all over, whether we planted them there or…

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i believe

i believe in compassion whose wisdom rises like the swell of the ocean, cresting and filling all that it touches, till a body aches with salty fulfillment i believe that love and compassion are wise, and we need them every day. i believe that the more i move from compassion, from love, the closer i…

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sapphire silk

i wanted to follow you up, not just for the sake of the silks, but for you — the powerful grace of your perfect body climbing the sapphire silks to the sky. i wanted to follow you up, climb out of the dirty necessities of my daily grind, haul myself, through strength and grace alone,…

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the irrigated field

in the dark, the irrigated field is a bottomless well. as if the land drops away beside the road, first, mud lined with weedy elms, then darkness, a void, a waiting. small crackling sounds inform the night, the dry earth drinking, cracking open last fall’s wizened crow’s feet, to pull the water in. satiation is…

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