Tuesday, September 25, 2012

For her

She is a piece of water
an unwashed apple, a
blue and spinning star,
a ribbon tied without
hands, a book with only one word.

She is a candle, an origami
flame, all white and red and
awake.  Heavy bread, burned
on every side.

She is a cup of sand,
a balloon, sewn into the stitch
of the horizon—

holding both sea and sky at once.

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