January 27, 2012

poem 28 of a poem a day for 2012

finding the words 

my hands reach into
the water when I breathe you in
or perhaps just the thought 
of your bleeding me
or my bleeding you
skin shelled sky full of rain
the patters and pain
of the entrances,the warm afterbirths
every Earth song knows each other's
and sometimes it's hard to tithe
the soft diamond surprise of patience
in the tides,wading curl asymmetries
like cemeteries reminding us
where the soul's water line was

EJR (c)

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