Sometime in April


Dusty light glow,
Waxen walls,
And red velvet drape.

Suspension.

I walk into a square
But I want to feel

Circle.

Well, there are circle flowers.
There are circles under eyes.
There are people circling this —

Space.

Over there she lies,
Looking like she has

Peace.

Well, every part of her lives…
Her body, part of the Earth,
And her soul, part of the heart and mind’s

Mosiac.

Memories are forever congealing.
Fragments slowly finding their place
In this tectonic think-tank.

Sometime in 1998, for Ga-ga

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