In moments when rain falls
from weary eyes,
like rivers that never end,
this heart,
this heartbeat, fragile,
patched up, on the mend.

I summons you
above all constellations,
in dissertation, in plea
though words, blue as sky
high as mountaintop,
insignificant, me

with nothing to offer
but a softened heart
which has been my demise
and hands, folded like flowers
head, bowed,
every single strand,
you recognize.

Carry me higher,
fill me, mold me,
move me closer to your will
that I may share my story
as you would have it,
through broken heart and quill.



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