
Words cover my life like skin.
Their names and places they come from
are dust and glimmerings on my shoulders,
are fragrances warming my neck, petals atop my feet.
**
Numinous
efflorescence
melancholic
circuitous
all come to me on
this borrowed breath
passing in and out
with names that hum hum.
**
Each word moves
earth beneath my feet,
these limbs walking
with guardian letters
that awaken my sleep.
Their base refuge is intergalactic
or extrasensory or long memory
that is co-conspiratorial
or we can just call it
home, the one home.
**
Such sanctity of language,
how we tarnish and tear it apart
with a punch of disregard,
a readied scythe of silence.
**
Letting words reclaim light is
nourishment to the mouth,
even within the ruin of pain,
even for misbegotten hearts,
and heal tender wounds of love
for this world we enter
then depart
this skin sounding all itself,
echoing final words for leave taking.
Until then,
words tarry;
we need them,
blood and water.
**
Words (deciphering all that is formed)
cover body, infuse soul,
life accruing life.
Some cannot bear to be touched, shaken, released.
My pen sings them toward a healing not always complete.
But still I accept and offer
every one like drops of precious tea
even in times of no flowing honey
and no forgiving rain.
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