Sunday, February 12, 2012

It Comes Through

This thing is big,
I open myself to let it through.
I peel back like a glove,
like a the skin of an orange.
I thought myself dead
in this transformation,
but I am prologue
to the things that come through me.
I am the lantern
and the light comes
and the light comes through me.
I am just the first word.
I am just the match.
I am just a doorway.
I am just a window
and the light comes through.

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