The Shape of Us (A poem)

Like you, I too,

am bell-like & ascetic;

made hollowed-through —  an instrument

of stunning emptied-emptiness . . .

We were made to be coupled

& meant to be symphony.

We become two trapeze in graceful mourning;

a balance of momentums —-

we ring a lonesome, winsome melody

You chime, as I echo,

while, you echo, as I chime,

& our tintinnabulations linger . . .

linger . . . long . . .

our song tolls on

past the vast & present voices;

even, & especially,

past & further

past our own.

-B

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