with Betsy Bonner
I.
I write from a sacred mountain
Not only the
body, but the whole
architecture of memory
changes
handmirror, quince
and comb
I've been dreaming
here seven days male and female
cypresses
(big differences
between them)
wild narcissus will crowd
the path we have when it's too bright
to see
but the doves
don't mind, whiter than sun
who's here who's
here who's here,
then stop suddenly.
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