Poetry

No words

I swear child
No word that I breathe is mine.

no pause or tear.
The guy I sat with breathed wept on my paper.
He left his stories on my chin.

A sad history.
his words lived and danced in my mind.
Even after I drowned in dreams.
No words are mind, child.
A little girl smiled at me, she carried me to a slow dance.
Her lips were soft on my hands.
She reminded me of orange childhood

and the bliss of eternity.
Her mother with the grace of heaven gave me a cake.
The taste sent me reminiscing and writing about love.
About early morning pancakes from my lover.
And apples I stole from his bags
No words are mine I swear.
The bustling of the markets gives me strings and notes
Rise and fall of the traders creates the dance, the cadence
The beat in my lines
And you child, your eyes have taught me
In open honesty do I write this.
I am lost in your dark round eyes, over and over.
I love the hope in your voice and the spring in your steps.
These words are yours.
Not mine.

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