La Que Sabe’s Bell

 

 

I grow lighter

on the wings

of your liquid sound

and am taken

on journeys

I cannot fathom.

 

The clarity of you:

messenger

to gods and fools.

 

You are all-present,

undiscriminating:

 

brass,

sharp as glass,

like I would want to be.

 

You sound

and I am silent,

listening:

 

the joy of you

dancing in my skin.

 

 

                                                                                               

 

 

 

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