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You are the poem in my womb
waiting to be answered,
the war in the sky
the burning sunset pays homage to.
My reason runs blind among stars
in devotion to what you left behind
for my beguiled muse to follow,
a peregrine through a wood
chased by refracted light.
You are the crux of knowing:
like the first encounter with pain,
the told secret,
the no turning back.
The scepter of the love
that didn’t see it fit to awaken
and break apart the chrysalis
of innocent touch and conversation
has marked me,
reversed me,
exposed the silt
under my surging rivers
and extracted the diamonds,
the place where once the hypnotic
ease of your nearness grazed my soul
now a dark tattoo shaped like night
that you’d have to love away
the layers before you can see.

From “Luxuriously Feminine Fall Fashions”
by photographer Carter Smith


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