365. the green among the green
first | in the thirst of it | last in turn of we face | as the action to | what wind comes across our cheeks | to tell us | what we want to be | or else what we | are as we the tendency | is toward movement | breath the action | of the body against the | accumulated mass we call | “reality” but entrance into | does not require | exit | so we stay | as one | as two as one | or more since our sense | of our selves is of | magnitudes not minitudes | the plurality of selves | that make us one | you can recall the event | of a night a song | we did not sing a sound | we heard inside but surrounded | by as if | the room was the cocoon that held | us in anticipation | of being whatever we | as one and two | coupled were or were to | be I see | in your eyes the scent | of your skin | my touch of your hair | resembling silk | but softer to the touch | finger on skin of | breath on nape of word | in ear my voice inside | your heart | the reverberatio
