i searched for you and
found damp, rich earth and thought i
might root for a while
-----
sometimes it’s a whisper,
it’s whiskers, it’s so faint
everything briefly pauses
becomes irrelevant,
unimportant, uninteresting,
I hold my
breath
so as not to disrupt, so
as not to startle, so as
not to break whatever
spell I had not known
sometimes it’s a howl,
it’s red eyes and distance
it’s patience and knowing
no one ever stands still
I catch my
breath
so as to prepare, so
as to hold steady, so as
to cast whatever, any
spell I witnessed
sometimes it’s a story,
it’s the knowledge of
before, the hope of next
I release my
breath
remembering how and
why I want to believe in
spells and magic and
you.
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