past lives i.

      she used to pray to st. jude
                       loss left her listless
                   scraped and bruised, oh, st. jude –

         and then the cavern collapsed, and
                    past lives ran by her like music;
                  she saw his face, this wasn’t their first dance
                            was it?

          whisper-silent, gradual introduction,
       she felt like a shotgun, pointed the wrong direction
              felt more comfortable in chaos –

          she cannot keep her words to herself
        the roar and rush of the falls that bellowed
                 inside her, hoarse

     tipped out the amphora’s contents at her feet
            left in the wake of his bruising mouth
        no need for gunpowder when he cocked her heart

                      thinking about this too much,
                 hearing your voice in her mind
                         stopping thinking, start feeling

  learning to rediscover you,
        rediscover me,
                       this isn’t reinvention
                          this is reinvigoration

             nervous beginnings,
         caught her unawares –
                      love is chaos, the blasted fool

                  now nerve endings, rising at words
              soft rendering of touch
                     editing, retouching, but
                they have already seen the mistakes
                             they’re corrected together –

       it is hard to corral the music
             of the heart
                   when the symphony changes instruments every day
          but the melody holds the same meanings
              the conductor still holds the same feelings

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