Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Confession



I say your name
as if I had power
to call you to me

my words curl
like burled oak
or smoke

rising in wisps
toward the lips
of a smiling moon

a blaspheme
against my state
much more to you

who sings forth
delight in innocence
of the strength you wield

there lies the fault
the moral cowardice
the fracture in me

I cannot become
the person I would
by invoking you

(November 2011)

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