Small Letter
do not go, this day, the red
of bridges, my little, stay
beside me over
the ruins of san francisco.
go, but do not go
from me, my one,
my love, my very kin
who I laughed with in our sleep
every night, my dream
beside your dream, for a year.
wrecking ball despedida, wreck
the great rooms in my chest & take
my last song, but do not leave me
on this earth, my one
without my one. how would
the hand ever live, if it knew
it would never braid your hair
again, or hold your face?
it would get up & walk
away forever then.
one by one my breaths
would go out looking: a procession
of homeless dogs,
or clouds
How would the hand ever live, if it knew it would never braid your hair again, or hold your face? Heart touching !
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