to seek me, meant
pleasure in ineffability,
already a loss for words
and to remain hidden
from some parts of the depth
of me and from the world with
me; I prefer the furtive
curl against another.
the unutterable and silent
worship
drives this chasm
I keep deeper between us
and the others and
you and me
like rifts adrift
like that, the moment
I turn my head.
I like to live,
eat, sleep alone
and move the country
this way; home
a solitary war
between impulse and
deep, deep reflection
upon impulse
control.

I’m so sensitive
that if I settle into
think and spread
the cards like a fan,
I’d feel it out
in five seconds
eyes closed.
show me,
she said.
show me one year
show me two years
show me three years.

“King of Cups”

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