Folded Hands

I hold in my hands this evening

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Offering

A small basket of woven leaves
With flowers, incense and camphor
Frail and delicate, set afloat

I Don’t Sleep Alone

I lay my tired body down,
head on my pillow,
pull up the sheets,
lids heavy…
when they appear before me,
a melee, making themselves heard.

SIP BY SIP, REALIZATION DAWNS

The man scoffed derisively.

IT’S HIM

When I close my eyes

I see a face