Confession


I say your name
as if I had power
to call you to me
my words curl
like burled oak
or smoke
rising in wisps
toward the lips
of a smiling moon
a blaspheme
against my state
much more to you
who sings forth
delight in innocence
of the strength you wield
there lies the fault
the moral cowardice
the fracture in me
I cannot become
the person I would
by invoking you
(November 2011)

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