Thursday, July 8, 2010

Raymund of Toulouse

stare at the world

with one blue ocean

for an eye and birches for

teeth. the hull of a boat

rattles like a real ribcage.

on the way to the holy land,

we set the baby out to sea

with a set of lungs like tired

clouds, a heart like a city

with all the lights out.

I just want to hold this land

in my arms like a lover,

like something I’ve been waiting for.

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