At first I did not see you: I did not know
your presence:
the shouts of the wind in the shadow.
Do you remember
how sleep grew
in you,
how
the wind
echoed
its secret syllable
and all things spoke
of the seed that half opens?
Your name is on the petals
of the rose that grows on the stone,
a scarlet mouth
deciphers your name:
broken window
crazy with light.
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