There’s a wet thickness in my voice
It quivers when I say, it’s a fine day

I can’t unclench my hands

They’ve taken hold of my heart and stride

I’m caught in the glance of autumn

My flowers whisper a ruddy golden wish 

Their scent rises like the longing of a traveller

In one leap, I swallow the chaos of the winter sun

All my tenderness bows in wonder

For the movement of his throat is a delight

I can melt my knots in it’s pure call

I might dismiss death as a petty offender

My soul might be the wick of an enchanted candle 

Which only he can flame

I’m just reborn, reclaimed from the ghost of anonymity

I can flee the oppression of wordlessness

I can rule over the lands of immense joy 

My ships can sink storms 

and tickle stars

I’m no more a stranger, my identity has been restored

In the quiet corner of the old library

He’s asked for my name 


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