so,
breath down my neck
once, twice
caress the line which marks
the end of my body
and the beginning of it --
today i have things to talk about

big, spacious heart prone to aching
singing in stuttering even,
poet of the heart, stop fishing, for
the fish is not yours to fish out-
quit treasure hunting for secrets

as you fly off from country,
I lay in the dark, dreams of dreaming,
but my muscles are ready,
like those of a young athlete,
and your plane I'd see off with my eyes
all the way to Athens for
I have something to say to you,
only the heart is scared-sighted

all my friends elsewhere
like beautiful sculptures
and this summer is pained by
the truth of us all dying
singular& strict& deafening
                           & defying

today, walking past the church
where I said my first prayer,
the thought of magic arose
and i wonder of origins;
i think this is how it should be:
i watch& i remember
and as long as alive is one bit of me
,they'll never go
and when they do, for real,
left behind will be my words
and rosemary will mark ears
of those who listened

also
just how many threads cross
also
how love burns words
onto skin in my sleeping,
and i wake up to read them

in my head i watch from here
yellow field flowers grow
to a techno beat, bewildered
by such shameless heart magic