When your heart's ropes are taut

And the words are caught in your throat

As though the thought is stuck

Stubbornly like a rock in dry dirt

And to lift your hand

To stop the falling of an auction hammer

Is a gesture like wind

Blowing a bolt of lightning,

When the well tended roads of emotion

Like Roman waterways crumble

Into the rivers of your arms

And the careful current carried

Through the deltas of your legs

Up to the monument of your mind

Comes pouring over the sides

Of the marble slides

Down into the quiet village

Of your heart,

You might start to feel that

The ropes are taut from falling walls

Being raised up by the enduring community

Of your endless breath

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