these babies came wrapped up like little mummies
each with its own piece of webbing: cocooned
asleep, waiting to be something different
coming out of the dark box, the grey gauze lovingly taped down
to be an object desired again
when do we enjoy the gaze,
at the moment of looking
or of looking away
when the lights flash and dim in the bedroom
as I unwrap you
are you speaking to me
what are you saying
our deep silences together
sacred in the piece
and then of things we shall not speak about
floundering in this deep water
what will happen will not be gentle
words as they carve down to bone
but about beauty, less than
but about the caress of eyes upon
more so, and I will pour out
(religious tract packed in the box about being saved)
at the bottom//belief
be not unbelieving
make// you// something// to// sing// about
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