there is absolution
in the unexpected coolness
of a sheet the whispering
of lovelorn cicadas changing
form as life does—
in one room after
another in husks of cocoon
behind doors of eyelid,
forehead, lip hidden
by curtains of lashes
beads of days prayed one
by one, worried smooth
in the fingers of time
again and again
the unleavened moon dissolving
on night’s repentant tongue
healing psalms sung
by rain wind breath
by the impulsive swish
of the sleepy hair of a lover,
the rush of a silk dress,
a paper bag dancing in air’s arms
NOTE TO EDITORS:
This poem has an atypical page-layout in terms of line-breaks. In case this does not come through in your submission system, let me know how I can send you the poem in another format if you are interested. Warmly, Nynke
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