What moves not only thought but kisses you
Who
should have been just whoever?
Instead
you are this thing to me these
Constellations
more ancient than what?
What
might recognize itself in this conversation
See
its own grace? What refuses to look?
We
offer such incautious words to the night
We
offer the moon such milkdrunk syllables
Stop
singing you know I can’t stand
That
strange curse when I come down
These rocks with my arms full
When
I climb down the cliffs with my rifle
You
say the smallest voice may raise
A
mountain that could stop a hero's heart
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