Who ate my hunger and in eating
filled it? And who drank my punishing
thirst, then called up to air my mutest
songs? I did not know you then except
as the ache that ticked at my wrists,
as light that burned long after I
closed my lids. Long-fingered,
your shadow returns; and with one
move, locked gates surrender.


In response to Via Negativa: The Other (El Otro) ....

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