Sunday, June 2, 2013

My Hands Let Go

You stroked a bliss into my being
tell me our nights were a lie
and the lotus called me from her waiting
bidding me to open my heart

So we danced in the river
collecting the stories of salmon
did you not hear them too
their wisdom said to allow

But now the moon turns with only one face
and the night grew cold and starless
the light flew out of my hands
perhaps this heart was a bird

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