balm

i run
in a straight line
with arrow eyes
and numb feet

and then the wind
whispers my name.

i measure
every moment
against a clock
and the weight of cash

and then the sun
suffuses me.

i speak
with shackled tongue
from the chasm
of propriety

and then the ocean
takes me.

i touch
without feeling
the fragility
of our grief

and then nectar
flows from me.

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