Release

Sand passes through the hourglass that is my figure
I have passed stones…
Bile, piss, shit, and blood
I may yet pass bolder
If tears snake past borders

In a dream, an old Indian 
Wears the skins of animals
Holds me, shakes me
Tells me he loves me.

I wonder why he would…

No matter, I feel its truth
And I, a fatherless beggar, know I love him too.
And so the burning dust falls from me.