The Heart of Janus

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The Heart of Janus

The poet doesn't invent. He listens.-
Jean Cocteau

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  • Priest and 5th

    The city is ablaze

    in cool jasmine light

    while I wait, tongue checked 

    in jade arrow sight

    -

    I count up the hours

    lived within great height

    my chest feels weaker

    in this jaded night

    -

    The jasmine lays fogged

    no fear or quick flight

    as I sit breathing

    cross chest gone alight 

    -

    Call my name, siren song

    Call my name in night

    I wish to face you now

    here in this stopped fight. 

    Posted on January 3, 2012

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