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.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
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