You’ve lived long enough
In the desert of a stranger’s mind
You walk through a yellow door
And enter a garden of seven wells
There is a lavender meadow
Where mossy pines dream
The silk cheek of a valley
There is an off-kilter sky
Of lavishly carved clouds—
Smoke thick from the heart
And there is the white
Desert of a stranger’s face
The scarred rim of his mouth
A hole in the air between you
A hole filled with the mute
Sulfur of stifled words
Maybe you will pour
Your moist voice down his dry throat
Maybe you’ll invent a lipstick
Like Chinese poetry when a leaf
falls
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