truth medicine

photo by shf

The truest poems wake the inhale in her center

and coax her eyes wider and tilt her head back

until her neck creaks, every muscle summoned,

as her sigh becomes a note long held and known by angels.

You are that poem, dear Twilight, dear Thunder.

You are that poem, dear Illness, dear Friend.

You are that poem, dear Nectar, dear Starlight.

You are that poem, dear Bramble, dear Bloom.

You are that poem, dear Question, dear River.

You are that poem, dear Absence, dear Nest.

You are that poem, dear Error, dear Morning.

You are that poem.