Sunday, November 7, 2010

St. Engelbert

I can’t tell

if the swelling

in my throat

is from an

abundance of thread

or a blossoming

of orchids.

I swallowed

a basket of spools

all bright and wooden.

I laid down

on the benches

in the greenhouse

while you filled

my mouth with

paper packets of seeds.

I have forgotten

what it means

to breathe deep.

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