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Posts Tagged ‘conversation’

 

 

blurting out thorns

when for weeks I practiced

how to speak in rose

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no wine, so we toast

with our laughter—

our joy half full

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Because we are traveling,

I say, We’re on the plane.

I say, Just landed. I say, See you soon.

 

As always, my heart leans beyond

the transactional. Longs to say,

Tell me about the pain. Longs

 

to say, I feel lonely. Longs to ask,

What do I most need to know?

But it’s not easy to hear. And

 

there isn’t much time. Is that

just the same old excuse?

And so I say, I love you,

 

because it is true. Say,

Can’t wait to see you.

Say, Gotta go. All through

 

the flight, the heart keeps leaning,

rehearses the five

most important words:

 

tell me all about it.

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some flowers bloom

only at night,

 

so it is with certain conversations,

that open in the dark,

 

the whole room

blessed with sweetness

 

 

 

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A metal table in the sun. Beyond it, winter.

Two women sit, brought here by rambling.

 

One woman weeps, tears of mortality.

The other woman rhymes with her.

 

Everything rhymes eventually, though

neither of them know it yet. The grass.

 

The snow. The dirt. The way the two women lean

into shadows. It’s not that time makes demands,

 

it’s just that the women still see themselves

as separate. They grasp at the present,

 

thinking this makes them a part of it.

Meanwhile, the birds. Meanwhile,

 

the trees. Meanwhile, the cells, changing.

Meanwhile the sun slides down the sky.

 

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all day the upright

grand piano dreams of hands

that play sonatas

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—for Rachel

 

 

between the cactus,

we walk, our conversation

daring to step wherever it wants

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What if

we spoke

about how

we can’t

speak to

each other,

and by

other, I

mean other

versions of

our selves,

and what

if, as

the words

crashed on

our lips

like ocean

tides that

won’t be

held back,

what if

we realized

that our

speaking about

not speaking

is a

starting shore,

sea water

collecting on

our cheeks.

 

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midflight

the doves in my voice

become ravens

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Uprising

Speak to me soft
in a voice so low that I lean in,

and speak to me in idioms
of night. Let’s lose any lens

that condemns. Let’s forget
any tongues that speak in

blades or claws. Speak awe.
Speak yes. Speak song. Translate

my fear into tenderness.
Converse in amber.

Converse in ice melt clear.
Speak quietly. Speak near

in tones that I more feel
than hear. Speak broken.

Speak wing. Let’s mislay our will
to judge. Let us be uncaged, untethered,

let us be light, fluent in warmth
in greening, in spring. And let

us be lighter than that. And lighter.
Speak in nothing. In the morning,

let’s give everything away.

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