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MYTHS INTERCEPT ME
myths intercept me
between thought and word
i am devoted
to the yearning of iris
and the compromise
of clivia
my pain is not carried
by the wester
or inflicted by the sun
nor am i rainbow
or sunflower
longing for zephir
or apollo
my melancholy roots
in the drumbeat of my blood
a nameless loss
This leads me to think of my childhood. I had "secret places" where I would go to write and sketch which was my only prescription for healing.