There is a certain stillness
when i walk your body
meeting no one,
when i blend seamlessly
with the consciousness of the river,
when i sit in the stomach of a sycamore
and trace deer prints in the sand.
And when i hear the water in this stream
i want to say
Napoli...(breathe)
Terebithia....(breathe)
Chrysanthemum...(breathe)
they roll off my lips
like the river over rocks.
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