Ancient People Lived and So Do We
I have two or three things to say and would like to be allowed
Extravagance as I give myself room to breathe and children
Time to frolic and garlic air to perfume and love some wet thing
To understand as a mirror of itself for are we not all after all in
Love with the idea of reflection churning boiling like bronze
Pots in ancient lands with liquids peered into by ancient eyes
For something that takes the plate of the wide blue world
And hoists it of a sudden smack against our breasts so we feel
That rush and thunder rumble right into the echo of our blood
Pulsing little dance of spirits inside and out so we start laughing
Letting go unpacking giving up in a good way resting closing
Eyes yielding where necessary completely even absurdly
Being along and on and with and through and at and under
All we are and what you were and who it is and why this right
Now and well in the month and second and beat of blood that
Defines things should go and weather to let me cool and not
Here wait but furrow through Sundays and pot days for dancing
On ancestor shadows the rainchill recalling the value
Of soupsteam glisten in hungered faces the waiting of our living
And so much forgetting so bone-strong unbreaking the skin
All embracing and force us recalling the pop little instant
Of birth and I think how rare how fond the sky the dark my friend.
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