traveling
light.
kneeling,
water in the shallow cup
of my palms, mixed
with the sunlight, pine trees.
the breath of the
forest
melts on my lips,
I drink from the spring.
…you wouldn’t risk drinking with me.
you didn’t give me my name
when I was lost, blind, unborn,
when I was the rain, the
night,
the cry of an owl in the darkness.
you didn’t hold my hand,
when I was born,
when I walked over
the fire,
when I died
c:Nina K orlovskaya 7/3/2012
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