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Mar 2013 · 376
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
Being speaks louder
than needing
and loving speaks
louder than me
(the most quietest
whisper)
We speak touchingly
muted by mouth
and mouth
and kiss
and kiss
and (this)
Mar 2013 · 394
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
I dreamt once
of the red juice
of berries
I picked them with a girl
not the girl
a girl
we ate of them hungrily
and fully
they were in abundance
The red juice dripped
from our mouths
and our hands
and coated our bodies
It stained us
and I tried to wash
myself of the juice
but it had stained
deeply
The cold river water
could not clean it
nor the salted water
of a tear.
I returned home
in red silence
and those eyes
understood
as silent eyes
do
Mar 2013 · 376
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
Lovers build first
a language
It is the building
of all things
A language of glances
and learned touches,
the lookings of the eye.
When we left
we were left
without voice
and we cried
illiterate
Mar 2013 · 355
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
Give me a girl
who smells sweetly
of creation.
Let me mistake her
for the world,
let me drown
within her waters.
I shall invest in her
my foolish spirits,
and rest joyfully
chaotically
within her withered
soul.
Mar 2013 · 401
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
We danced
in the fields
at a time
of flowing honey
with smiles that felt
like pedigree.
There was the light
of the Sun
and the greenness
of a mountainside
and in your hand
my own.
And when we came
to the end
and watched the dying
of the grasses
and the shedding
of the leaves
we lay together
before the fire
and felt the skin
of the other
and sometimes
we danced.
Mar 2013 · 712
O! canyon
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
Look at us
all of us
standing here
with our heads slightly raised
alive like watchtowers
mistaking ****** desire
for history
time passed
and the time to come
all of it
we do not know.
Look at us
standing all about.
I feel like a totem pole.
Light a fire around me.
We are a day,
And all around us
such a spiritual dance!
I know not the true color
of things
but perhaps I could marry you.

I know that I am asleep
but I don’t know
what I will wake to.
Hold me please
I will not ask you to.
All we are
are children
I shall whisper it
to the elder ones.
They have forgotten it so.
Mar 2013 · 517
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
Disrobe for a moment
and preserve
for us our sanity.
We exchange courtesies,
salutations,
in this language
we have only learned
to begin.
So question not
this focused silence.
Listen to its eloquence,
partake in its fluent
unknowing.
Mar 2013 · 370
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
Along the coast
I watched your breathing,
your hair wet
with spray
and you entirely
beautiful.
I thought:
How can I not fall
in love with you?
The beach
was a place
where you knew vague death
and life vaguely
and I knew only
discovery.
Mar 2013 · 270
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
I crossed paths
with youth
the experience
left me bleeding.
I could not live
without
this ******
myself
our parents
why.
The coming of our children
flows by us
Can you hear it
through the trees?
Mar 2013 · 276
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
Everything is like
everything
is like everything
is like
nothing.
Reach out and feel
me feel
warmth feel
everything please
before I get angry
I might.
Mar 2013 · 413
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
I have only improved slightly
I think
but the weather
has improved much
warmed not fully
but has Sunned
and unsilenced.
The winter
had such a way
with quiet,
the sound of breathing,
rising.

I emerge
from these cycles
so momentarily.

It is spring now
the birds announce it so.
Questions,
questions,
they remain
but the flowers are blooming soon
I can not recall their smells,
their fullness,
but I shall remember
soon
in full forgetfulness.
Mar 2013 · 298
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
Speak to me
in a language
I have never heard.
All this understanding
has exhausted me.
Love me
while I am sleeping
here.
Eat me, feed me
like sweet slumber.
Guide me by the ear.
Mar 2013 · 655
Untitled
Henry Mulligan Mar 2013
New age wildewoman,
wearer of feathers
and soft skin,
you intrigue me
in an herbal fashion.
You speak of happiness
and energy
and the power of trees.
Within your faerie eyes
I see
your deep history,
a joy brought on
by purifying melancholy.
I see your beauty
evolved.
Out here wild in the west,
in our wilderness,
in our confused
and maturing minds.

— The End —