You are
messiah, you, reddest
flower and mount of flags; you
galaxy, weather- strewn. This
is the reality I knew
when you were born
and you who abide
in me, bright-pointed
and riveted to underwater
sand or hurrying as
platelet to cause of injury
will find in the fate
of universe and crush
of mass and wave,
a voice and lyre. Sing
of me, who loved
and tethered faith to
your first cry.
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