here
By lilanais
(for mahal, and for anne sexton.) here where i sit and this flashing white box tells me not much of you or your philosophy today but i am thankful and not complaining; here where i sit and can dream of you hands and mouth and impertinent tongue, hard eyes and everything else in a flash before me dizzyingly trying to keep with your wit and tender sharp eloquence; here i still sitting and you now gone and i lost in thought and reeling from what you left, gathering into my body and mind what is spilling through my now sore fingers. Written December 18th, 2001 © on Dec 17 2001 09:25 PM PST 18 • 0 • 8
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"(for mahal, and for anne sexton.)..."