the left hand, with God not looking
grips a heart, a silent Judas
bare him no malice, a blaze perhaps
a tiny one, a scroll of elements
heaven, and my cowardice
without commandments
call me, everyone
call me, man
exceeding these cataracts
unifying memories into one
Shaped nicely.
thank you.
One of the best of yours.
humbled, thank you Marie.
Called to the sap, the coursing bud – who can resist…
: )