under the chin many a kiss…
The golden boat trembles
on the surface of closed eyes.
Hair, rowlocks, clavicles,
fuzzy skin, lilies, reeds…
Every particle of me knows
what has happened, what is bound to be.
And I proffer my face, my shoulders
to the miracle as to the wind.
Come and row. A child again.
I will sleep curled up on the stern.
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