the searing burn of this poem
oil of this poem’s anointing
set fire for this poem
the heart of this poem
the arms of this poem
the breast of this poem
the breadth of this poem
the width of this poem
the depth of this poem
the cries of this poem
the sorrow in this poem
the harmony of this poem
the discord, lies, and discourse of this poem
the hips, library, and tongue of this poem
the stars in the belly this poem
the friction in this poem
the sweet taste of this poem bitters
the laugh of this poem
nostalgia flowers the casket of this poem
the elegy of my poem skips
the excrement of my poem
the unction of this poem
the face of my poem meets for the first time
the back of my poem
the broad shoulders of this poem
the prayers, lament, and spirit of this poem
the lover, the suitor, and the kisses of this poem
the ghosts of this poem
the capital city, the fortress, and the rape of my poem
the embrace of this poem
has a name that you don’t deserve to speak
because of the conscience of my poem
the wrath, the vision, and the judgment
the pain of my poem is united
with the skin of my poem touching
the insecurity of this poem.
the tears of this poem in the therapy of this poem,
the mindfulness, and the meditation of my poem,
sink into the fabric of my poem
and the breath of my poem
fades
and the death of my poem
relives the spring in the step
of my poem
the rise of the poem
overcomes the fall
of my poem
and the leaps and bound
give an inch to the poem
but take a mile
from my poem.
desforpres 