I know I have been seen
but when the flower sees me
its gaze comes from the other side
and passes right through me
a scent on the breeze
I barely perceive
a touch before lust
possession and mistrust
ever entered the sparrow’s
glance and our flesh became
this impossible petaling
this soft strong unknowability
in the mouth and in the hand
what could we call ourselves
after that but lost and found
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