mostly to itself
its lungs full of my air
and its veins full of
my lovers blood, asleep
in the sway of things.
the quiet ghosts of tide
and moon stood with
their eyes closed
in close reach of the song
avatar smiling with the shell
at his feet humming along.
he told me the talent
was in their bones
and in the marrow
like a copper conductor
the rosary beads bent
over his knuckles like
scars or lips parted
in confessional kisses
and when the song was over
so was the conversation.
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