from every avenue.
I learned from bird flocks, and like them,
I spoke and sang without interpreter.
Each time you sought my source,
I grew a hundred more arms, your slaves.
I said, "Kiss my lips, wherever you find them."
Hummingbirds carried our portraits in a locket.
Clouds are never far from the sky, love.
Blue jays find them and call.
We hid our first hearts at the base of a wall,
faces furled at our fingertips
Crying, "Look here! Look here!" in magnificent cowardice.
________
For The Sunday Muse #44.
