I speak rightly –
set not my words to music,
nor douse them in tune to vast breaths
I am among you as mortal,
still. But, please, breathe freely –
at least for a time,
then let me be to eager rests’
devoted arms –
of course your strewn petals,
benign at my feet,
speak calmly of foe and friend –
draw me close to your wondrous
adoration; so separate me not from music’s glow
when such fragments tear you
into fractious, scattered pieces –
and so it is perhaps that great art’s worship
be confined to symbolic gesture.
I am not lost, and I am not gone
whilst echoes play
with such innocence
and voices call me. I am translucent.
Gleaned from me is the skin you were denied.
I am always yours. I am diaphanous.