here is my Secret (shhhh)
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers…
so my life is filled with backhanded compliments
about all the work i do
“You write so much” comes my way again and again
intoning the weight of volume
or “How do you get so much done?” in exasperation
and maybe disbelief (or anger)
well here it is: this is my Secret
time is like a vast and even endless desert
if you are willing to notice it stretched before you
and love is a blossoming oasis that draws you
into its fragrance and warmth and soft embrace
an oasis so comforting and this thing called living
but there the desert disappears no longer endless
ok that’s not the secret but it is the start
here is my Secret
i am surrounded by sands dry and vast
no blossoms of love or even a whiff
i have more time than you tangled in love
and that is the source of all this work
an endless stream of words pecked out
where a beating heart prefers her warmth
so i’ll leave you with this: which would you prefer
a mouth filled with sand and endless volumes in hand
or the dizzying lull of lovers intertwined among the flowers?
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