the
placed stone quiet of words
my
path beneath the dead light of stars
always
seeks the trees
with
leaves that bleed like I do
the
pines know to guard the entrance gates
and
shepherd the wolves and wombs here
for the four seasons turning time to reap
and
emit every now, one at a time
to
have and to hold or let go
or
linger in or divide into your own forever
this
is Love coming to get the poet
this
Goddess with bright eyes in a dark world
wanted
the 100 % agave tequila, aged
with
a choice lager to follow
and
as I served Her all I did was stare
at
the event horizon where her eyes led me
joy
in the suckle twine of being
the
core essence for more
that
doesn't need explanation
as
much as room to roam
the
vines of stars willing rebirth
into
our eyes every time
we
crane our necks and look
at
the ribbons of their memory
and
how they move as we turn
each
little wheel, in Love or not
always
dancing where the physical world
wants
to leap the abyss in the dark
EJR
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