You are my favorite chapter
in the story of my life.
Your page is dog eared
so once I reach the end,
I can come back to you.

Words were left behind
    on top of the soil
    where they buried
    yesterday's bones

2. suddenly, this cold chill
    that has befriended my spine
    is now a sense of comfort
    that I am still alive

3. Grief, it is love, it is every form of love
    From every story I have ever read
    it is hope and despair
    it is the shadow
    of this rain
    that follows me
    home

4. I hope you see
    that this running clock
    moves in circles
    just like we do
                             the beginning of your journey
                             is closer to the end
                             than you could ever imagine

5. If you are looking for me
    I am searching for that old shadow
    we left with the sun for safekeeping
    thinking about burying old love

I am beautiful,

for me, and for anyone --


who keeps it secret.

If I grew wings
would you stab them
with pins
and add me
to your collection?

If I grew fins
would your interest
in me
culminate in a classroom
dissection?

If I grew muscle
would a vivisection
suffice
or would you first crush my strength
within an iron vise?

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2427648/the-patti-smith-poems-the-alchemy-of-his-prescriptions/


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2346726/how-i-honor-you-notes-from-a-conversation-with-patti-smith/

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2351121/honor-you-stumble-where-gods-get-lost/

The Joni (Mitchell) Collection


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1692219/a-case-of-you-joni-first-datelast-date/


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/957041/write-like-joni/


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2185836/still-be-on-my-feat-for-joni/

Wrote a whole **** collection
Day before the ending
And looking back on recollections
I feel myself sending
A prayer
Into the sky
A brief and utter plea
To the world that I cry
And fly above

Clipped wings surrounding
A scared little kid
Who's looking for some fun
In the summer with the others
But the children are dead eyed
With slack jaws
Unmotivated in the head

So he writes a collection
The day prior to freedom's loss
All those cries and prayers
Find their way and toss
A coin down a well for a lovely embrace
As a Summer Kid looks off
Searching for space.