blue's response

I love your sexuality
your intercourse with art
and being

and being
everything.

If your mind could rub against my chest
to beat it blue
a mother to her child
a father to the child
a beaten child

then maybe i can breathe
into your
poetry
photography
stories
of sacred purity.

it's lonely in the dark
my fingers have fallen off
and i cannot strum the same chords
within my self

help,
i want to wake.