The Light Is On

I have ticked forward. One eternal second on the clock. The small thing that feels like forever.

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Prelude

Am I already singing? Is that my voice or hers? My image in the mirror looks the same, pleasantly unglamorous, growing slowly older. Except that now there is gold dust on my lips. I smile. I can’t help it.

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Shadow Of The Toad Woman

Is she marking me or erasing a mark? Some long ago scar that I have chosen to ignore at my own peril? Or am I marking her? Finally claiming her as mine, telling her to come home? I sense that we are dancing, suspended above all these questions, for in the end it is the simple act of contact that matters.

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Map of My Heaven

I don’t need a God
At the center of me
Or slightly off center
I am not a Buddha or any other divine man
Inside where I dance

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