6.19.2005

Midas

A pillow sweet enough
To make your Midas weep.
Leaving my prints
On porcelain spheres.

I would give more.
I would take more.

But that world is not mine.
These rags cannot hold water
Enough to teach my lips
The taste of summer.

I would gain more.
I would lose more.

To solstice I will take
My treasured marble dust.
Shadows on the grass
Will hold my empty hands.

I would love you more.

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