August 18

comments 2
poetry

Still here, still,
here.

How many times
did she say it?

The practice
is yoking

together.
Sprawled along

the floor
like I know

what I’m doing,
Ujjayi, ocean breath,

now come and meet
this foreign body,

a little space, a little
more, a common interest

we seem to share,
now tell me more–

 

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