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Soon, you will see
I’m the last person
who will try to change you
there’s enough of you
for me to love
enough to keep my heart full
and my hands busy

so just live

dance with your own sunlight
and I will design
my movements
after your rhythm

maneuver around the changes
of your personal weather
and I will compose
climates of songs
that keep other lovers warm
and blow powdery snow
on caressing winds
for secondhand poets
to play in

my seasons shall take after
the tilt of your axis

say what you have to say
and I will cultivate
the garden of my persuasions
with the seeds sown
by your potent words and
populate my dreams’ hills
with the shades of green
within your cerebral geography

or you can move around
in the fullness of silence
and I will hold still
and all the world at bay
even butterflies
until you emerge again

be lost among the shadows
of your tall trees
your responsibilities
and pursuits as often
as you have to
and I will respect
the sanctity of your forest
you’re a made man, so
I will not search for you
or stalk you between
the language and length
of your strides
I will close my eyes and see
the shafts of light,
triumphant,
and assemble my icons
upon that shrine of peace

just live

and I will belong
to your universe
from a far enough distance
by the shadows of your hands
and the gravity of your love
for your daughter and
your truth and the beat
that defines you,
and if you ever find
the occasion to look my way
you will see the
unmistakable gratefulness
in my heart for the
opportunity of loving you.
.

bird
.
untitled photo by photographer Taylor-Tomorrow
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