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Poetry
Telephone

"Telephone" - 7/12/10

what does it feel like
to have no regret
and brave as a beatnik to
disavow ambivalence?

what does it look like
to own one's own power
the way geishas conduct
symphonies with silence?

what does it feel like
to kiss future on the lips
head thrown back with
wildest abandon?

answers to these questions
singe the tip of my tongue
tingling with trust's novocaine
half-numb with risk's elixir

speaking would crush
what little reason's left
to breathe when faith lies

fragile as a robin's egg