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Be

Be my hand at the crucifixion

Be my veins, my synapse and

my addiction

Be total and incomplete

Be shifting tides and wine

Too ripe to drink


Be my guitar and its silver strings

Be my love, my love

My love for all things


Be my Twenty dollar bill

And my pack of cigarettes

Be my ever and always

quivering lip

Be a flash of light and

incense in the room

Be not my direction

Or dust inside a tomb


Be the bed we lay in

Be the sun inside the room

Be the silent laughter

Be the face inside the moon

Be my clean fingernails

And the dirt patch on my jeans

Be my love, my love

My love for all things.

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