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the tiny fingers of the heart

August 23, 2014

the tiny fingers of the heart
dip themselves in
spices and wine
and draw
on the cave walls of our soul
the mythic beasts
that battle in the shadows
cast by our fateful birth

as invisible as the sky,
as vivid as prophecy,
as potent as absolution

by fist or cup,
in clench and splay,
we follow their dancing line

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