There is no way to make whole

some words, never easing their sting

fall, collapsing, pealing hands, opening to dark

a prayer, benediction, gilded curse

your titan hold felt like home all these years

your pursed lips, a harness about my shoulders

this creature, who danced on stage when lights were dimmed

and knew the worth of a moment

just like the perfume of a absentia parent

and the closed door they softly lock in long retreat

will sing inside your soul like a lost cathedral

making her rheumatic confession

O’er collapsing rocks, breaking promises, leading to storm

calloused feet press embered earth in no direction

there is no way to make whole

some words, never easing their sting

your regal neck, bent in concentration, midday

sun alighting on soft hair, gathering electric charge

a persistent hum beneath my skin, rustling like

horse-thief, the urge, galvanized in silence

spilling over red rock into dry orroyo where life

once startled bald and sprung liberate; we who watch

see urging diminishment and rise, your chest breathing

one last fitful glance before

all is quiet, all is soft and blurred

as rain falls for the first time since Winter

washing clear, those who were

out past curfew.

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