Sunday, January 13, 2008

The Stutterer

i wish that i could help;
but my hands are not for mending.
my ears may hear, my arms enfold
and if i bear your salt-precipitations
i shall do so
tightly, and with care:
while clumsily, lacking in tries, i
stutter uncertainties, my pouring self
ragefully emerge from lips'
constrained two-thinness,
i will say "i'm sorry," but i will mean
"i love you."

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