Inner Heart

You came lazily
by your western wind, and
whispered upon my grave
the subtleties of words
opening your inner mouth

I overheard the phrases
kissing upon my mound, and
like a drunken man
started skirting tulip
from my deeper roots

After hanging all passions
willowing into the air
I started dreaming; Dali’s
“The Persistence of Memory”
into my inner heart

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