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Friday, January 14, 2011

From the Cave (Audre Lorde)

Last night an old man warned me
to mend my clothes
we would journey before light
into a foreign tongue.
I rode down autumn
mounted on a syllabus
through stairwells hung in dog
and typewriter covers
the ocean is rising
I came on time
and the waters touched me.

A woman I love
draws me
a bath of old roses.

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