the last black waters in a dream i saw six years ago. canoeing down oil black mirrory waters, a river in new jersey. trees arching overward with boughs balletic over the river center, arching healthily and strongly. holding the space for the beloved to pass underward.
the seed of a song, this was, because the man in my dreams six years ago wasn't more than a harbinger, and the beloved was in me as was the song.
but it taught me the goodness of the signal.
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