Wandering without the law, without truth,
without sense or grammar, without published
argument or doctrine. The wide, wet mouth
of heaven swallows planets, it establishes
their cycles within time. I haven't polished
the pearls or gems for her, I have but lied
to keep what I've desired. I don't relish
in the weakness of my self, I have sighed
and failed throughout love's trials. I die
to live more fully, pass the words over lips
and into the dim world. I have been tied
to the textile of the ancients, in her slip
she whispers prayers. I move my poor tongue
to be made perfect in weakness as I belong.
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