"take my arms off this table oh gentle wind
i see you tickling the trees, the leaves' soft
underbellies
hairy, warm and yellow, run your fingers over me
and braid my tears into a river
rushing roaring loud into my eardrums like
airplane sounds and crowded highways
and the ocean noise of the late night B train
when my ear is pressed hard against the rattling window
snatch me up between your gusts, hurl me
violently
so that i am pitched far forward and fly over the
burning sun.
scorch my eyebrows!
burn my eyelashes down to ashes!
i will no longer cry with eyes like morning dew
over clovers with three petals
then, let me land in a fisherwoman's boat
blue-painted sharp and chipping scratchy wood
weave splinters into my bare palms so i will not
forget
and let me sit in solace there
in peace under the rising moon so hulking large
that i am scared
and i tremble
oh kind oh dear oh skillful wind
take my arms from this table make my fingers
quake and
shake the fragile nature out of me! so when i
shatter i reveal.
and stretch me thinly 'cross the sky
before you press your violet lips unto my heart
and puff one breath
send me
falling
paper-feathers-dust-mote speed
it matters not where i will land
as long as it is far from here
and i no longer where i stand"
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