Saturday, June 26, 2010

St. Anthelm of Belley

I think about blooming

and how I’m going to

nip this in the bud.

I think about all these

little bruises and how

I must have gotten them.

I think about small towns

and how I’m not ashamed

to be from one.

I think about your fingers

clutching that lantern. Please

lead me safely into the night.

There is a smattering

of red stars on my right hip.

I think I felt your hand there.

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