fire will come from our fingers at the slightest touch you see
and i will love you too much
more than even now, which already is animal like
the screaming fox, second only to the mountain lions holler
makes the noise of this love
barn owl
north wind
midnight i am falling
see it in the mountains, in the cut of the path, where the river becomes too hard to cross
the place where we leave the offerings
i have touched you lightly here and knew you did not want me to go
and as i walk along the river bank i know how badly you want me to follow you- all the way home
wherever that is now

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