This is the fire
when truth spills out
of a poem. You were
one thing,
but deep with writing, you
become a being aflame.
This is the air
I am exchanging with you.
It has touched everything
on Earth in its own time. It lives in
all the right fires.
We are two pages in a book, stitched
side by side. Our
words are different
but we feed each other
meaning, forking our eyes
at each other’s print,
recognizing the modest miracles
that ask for nothing.
J. Pratt-Walter, (c) 2019
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