I asked to be curled as a blade of jade-green fern,

to be smooth as a fig leaf sunning in the yard.

I asked to be light as a circus of speckled motes,
to have the dignity of lanterns on a passing train.

I asked to open like a secret peeling from the bark of a tree,
to close like the hinge of a music box after it has been played.

I asked to bear in my hands the heart hidden in the hills,
for the string to guide me into the labyrinth.

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