the taste of poison ivy

i tell myself 

that i must begin writing this story,

finish it

then let it into the wind

so that it will dissipate the darkness,

perhaps be absorbed by other souls,

poison other dreams

and i shall be relieved

and continue my voyage

barefoot, my steps lighter,

no ghosts following me.

there is no separation

between thought and utterance

in the kingdom of words - 

my mouth is full of silence

like wet cotton,

my days carry no light -

i am a puppet of hope,

i am moved by a god

who holds the strings

of cause and effect.

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