by Jessica Harman
Where there's smoke, there's mirrors.
I am never hiding, yet always hiding.
What does morning light look
like in the afternoon? This world is not
only a distillation of clover
honey; it is a wish, a pastiche of shadows
in motion across the water full of reflections.
Everyone says that some things remain
mysterious. There is no answer: only more
learning about the details of the question.
Stars are a good guide, sighing to each other
in this interwoven universe that we don't
understand, and so say it is governed by love.
Copyright © 2008 by Jessica Harman
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