“As I Write …”

 

As I write

 

…my mother sips coffee

on a porch

overlooking heaven’s gardens…

 

….while my lips mouth words without my intent…

 

…my father spins yarns of candle smoke

into brilliant diamond terrains…

 

…and word-worlds move inside my spirit like aches…

…this flesh, first loosens …then evaporates…

….while swirls of wind build quiet, inside my chest….

 

 

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