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35. [second draft/final draft]

I used to pray every night
and now
I try to just think 
I might have to be alone

with my hands lost 
their still gestures
watching her nipple
being amazed by its warmth



how many times do we count on our breathing
so we might hold it while passing cemeteries

they too used to pray
now grey solitary flowers
autumn on the fringe of being winter



now the dance steps lost between street corners
now your sister and my grandmother
and now my passive attitude to being scared of it all

the farewell and mortality
how I’ll miss her and them

what it means to kiss you and be gone

now the gestural space to(o) runaway in the dark
now light shards

now I can and now he might never
though plummeting to the ground
fortunate to hold her last few inches of chest and fervor

now heaven
now hell
and definitely just smaller

and now…
Posted 01/01/13
This is an edit of the poem 35., which comes from a larger manuscript.
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