the secret life of words

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The cold woods the slate where the children meet blue from kissing roses hand into hand into man into fish we reach a strange understanding you were always carved in stone while I was a word in your ear. Nobody came when you called. I was collecting driftwood carved by the salt and the flame and the years spent gathering dust and stars on the edge of the world a place where the days forget. I will love you for as long as I fall.

Please remember this: the softness of flour sifting onto our bed the night you held me whispering things that only the proud can hear and my heart grew tendrils in my chest until birds cried tears of joy at the rising day. Remove your clothes your skin your eyes come to me naked carrying the thorns your mother grieved speaking in tongues the door you left unlocked buried in water drowned beneath the earth the awful tapestries of love.

Spin these glassy words. they can only glimpse where I’ve been, the strawhead men and chickenbone women pasted to the sand. No-one can see me here, alone with my hands full of hair, my face to the wind. My name curls in smoke drifting over your eyes as you lie in feathered night. Strip yourselves for the morning will find you, alone and in pairs, your bodies stretched across the hills and valleys of the naked world. My mind is the cloud that holds you all. My love for you reaches from the icepack to the stars.

lock your fingers in the branches that tremble from my lips, lose your thoughts in the mist that rises from below. And I have a charming smile. I keep it next to my fishknife next to your heart

in the cupboard over there.

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