When I
accept that fire is missing,
the unbroken,
breaking, the tone of two
voices whispering prayer; this means
disappointment-
this will be my
abiding companion,
patron of my inconscient communion
with
waiting, the timely possession
of heart and
reserve.
Are we cursed to hurry towards
empty,
rushing through the sluggish vein,
neglecting maturity and
patienceto spoil what remains?
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