she slows it down in me

by blake ellington larson

as if something startled

woke against a great tide

like sculptures that fall in themselves
or words that have had no presence

she stops me
mid-step

her voice
throws wind at my arrows

and as i go from black to white
and back again

i wait for a response
i beg to be known
i lean to kiss her through the cold

i lean to kiss the face
that kisses me

(1999)

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