All I find is honey
so hard from the cold
it does not fit my want
He brought it here
from the edge of a valley
laden with ashes
told me
to drink
as though there were
something wrong with me
drew lines on a calendar black
then left
But I am too wise
to play this game now
so I make heat from the ashes
form myself a river of sugar
then run through the desert
beneath the ceramic saints
he has left for me
to discover
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