what is perfection
what you cannot have,
that which sets you free
and pays you back
tenderly, with cupped
hands
on this timeline
in this lifetime, you
owe elsewhere
my heart
in my mouth
om tat sat
om tat sat
and your tongue,
teeth on my neck
what is this really
how much of you
was pieced together
by bleached vertebrae,
crow feather, smoke and
the wind from the
west deepening
obsidian, those eyes
and freedom
nailing you down
om tat sat
© 8.5.2023 heather brager
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