I have changed my mind and decided
that I’m not changing my heart.
I found the secret while
plumbing the fathoms of the soul,
finite, if nonetheless deep,
and finding that one
channel that links it
to the more amaranthine
soul of the world.
These are the words perfected
in my inner Atlantis,
forming the immaculate shape
of a Muse’s pearl:
whoever loves more,
For am I not the one who wakes up
audience to God’s shifting palette
of glorious sky each morning?
Am I not the one words flock to
on poetic wings,
without being summoned?
Am I not the marquise
with tracts of fertile land
to grow pretty things in,
the vicereine appointed to make of
ordinary days a regressive beauty?
Am I not more alive when I bleed,
spilling forth crimson yearnings that
somehow, through echoes,
help the universe’s unfolding?
all because I love you
Remember when I told you
you didn’t have to try to love me back?
Remember when I said
you just had to let me love you?
And in turn I won’t forget
I’m still the lucky one.
“Repeat After Me” by photographer Cassoday Harder