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mûre
Poems
Dec 2012
This is how it goes:
I don't move,
I orbit.
I hopscotch the squares where love can be.
Where it has already been.
So,
I don't move [forward],
I orbit [to where I may belong]
I am homesick for everyone
I've ever met.
Most major decisions are based
on the statistic probability of a kiss,
because to be loved
is to be corporeal.
My heart doesn't guide me,
theirs do.
I follow my bloodlines
and shake the tree
for fruit.
This is how it goes:
With each breath I draw,
one for me
one for you.
Written by
mûre
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mûre
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