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  May 31 rose hopkins
q
i do not believe in god
but i do believe in poetry
and for me
maybe poetry is prayer
and the universe
is an unwavering ear
in the shape of a god
rose hopkins May 17
His demeanor was
cleverly ingenuous.
Quite ingenious.
Different meanings between similar words.
She thinks dandellions are beautiful,
Contagious bursts of sunshine on the neighbors lawn,
Waiting to be wished upon.
Breaths of wind planted
By the mouths of hopeful children.
My hair is covered, my intellect is not.
My feet are covered, yet I'm still going places.

My ears are covered, my hearing is not.
My back is covered, yet I'm still standing.

You've imprisoned my tongue, my words will never surrender.
You've imprisoned yourself, yet I'm still trying to set you free.
In the morning of yesterday
There were strangers talking in my garden, heads close together
Intent on each other, in whispers
I heard them say your name
And the earth shifted a little...the season moved forward a little
And I heard myself sigh like a dreamer

Harvesting hearts and marigolds
The thief steals in when we least expect it, masqued and lithe
Wanting an exploration of Souls
Oblivious, if we’re generous
But still the knife cuts deeply...the blade turns without intention
And I’m bleeding out like a Madrigal

I loved you too much in the Mirrorfall
I found you in the violin’s shadow
Dust and star tears are my witnesses
I love you
My joy and my abyss
I am trying to believe in a love for me.
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