Sunday, June 22, 2008



I wave my pen like a wand
and cast a spell to conjure images
of the past: the silk of your skin

I had touched a thousand times,
the impish smile in your eyes,
your firm thighs. Athame in hand,

I slash the veils of illusion
one by one, and stab my devoted
heart with the dagger of art.

I let the blood spill like music,
tears flowing like the solemn lyrics
of a dirge. I let everything go.

I remove my robes and remember
that the path to wholeness
is not in safety but in vulnerability.

Star-clad, I offer my wounds
to the universe, faith transforming
pain into poetry, suffering into song.

-Ralph Semino Galan

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