Tuesday, February 14, 2012

The Heart of the Matter

to my Valentine:

Often flowers make me stay
by the way they hold their heads
at mid-day,
just like at night a gentle moon
calls me from my bed to sleep
less soon
by the way it's dressed, festooned
in clouds.

I cannot keep
These things I love, but they detain me.
I am bound
by the way my heart is tossed
and held aloft
while my quiet breath is lost, 
and found again.

By the way
 I love you

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