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When it is said

Coming on to my lips to be 

Like a hummingbird singing, like

Torching my heart with fire

Then spoken and gone

Like every sunset, every dawn

Tell me what is to be

It’s a delicate theme to conjure

To have what is said perceived for its meaning

Believed, in the belief of the words

After the moment has sent

Courage to be

Every nerve in the wire of being

Coiled then sprung in boundless undoing 

I see the imagery, the shaping

But the clouds on my brow crumple my mouth

Arouse an uncertainty, a fear for innocence lost,

There can be a going on

But this has to be true

Not just a sinking into memory

A fragile heart to endure

What am I to believe

In the everyday world

Is this what is to be

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Words August 2019, when what is said cannot be taken back. Photo, Sylvester. Music, Agnes Obel

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