After Kneeling in the Middle of Grand Central

I don’t know your sadness-in-this-moment.

How does the world love you? How

you cry out, stay silent.

I reach, and I have my reasons

for writing. In the desert,

wilderness, wherever people find themselves alone,

crows from yesterdays flock gather

under your ribs. I have stillness, expanse,

in my hips. You don’t know you possess

all the world. Still–

I want to give you more of it.

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