Saturday, December 02, 2006

I don't know for sure
where your hand is

and breath

begins I don't know
what's up when words pivot

in salt or taste
like ask

or generate content

there is no such difference
between believer and believe.

I have fallen through
these lines notes

I have fallen
with you I break
my lines like I break my love.

Where have you come
from my daughter

the piano escapes
the violin
the violin
the piano.

There is recourse
to speak to you in a poem...

If I was you if you were me.

As if.

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