Wednesday, March 14, 2007

the magician

the past,
what does it mean to you?
i can tear my shirt to rags
and wipe it from your mind
leave you just a child
or have you even grown
little one

hold my hands
these aren't caresses
there is no prelude to
your passion
i've come to take what's mine
i have the right
purchased, fairly in the open air
like you

but i ask again
the past?
what does it mean to you
does it have some movement
bring warmth
grow hot with love?
bathe you in the dusk
hide you when your window
makes its calling
and you listen

your mother taught you
bitter lessons
kept you in a hard darkness
cajoled and laughed and pitied
an unworthy child
wove little witcheries
with locks
unyielding doors
and now i ask you
what are you worth?

may i go into your secret places?
just a traveler
a collector
fill my pockets with
and miseries
i have my price
but keep your coin
what are you worth?


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