I SHAN'T HAVE
NO LEAVING
The color of this stupid day still mesmerizes
me; I know the leaves, soon enough, too, will
be changing and doing their own, but that's
not the color I mean. It's something else entire.
-
The wind wants to rustle my hair, rattle my head,
raise scruples with all that I think. It twists and
turns whatever it can catch - like an idea, even that
it would blow about, pounce, cradle, catch, ruin.
-
I hold you like a thirsty man holds water in his mouth:
to savor, yet to drink and consume as well.
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