Let me

Let me be the wine
you open and leave to breathe.
Let me be the weight
of gathering clouds.
Let me be a song
played in the dark,
the swish
of a body
in the bath,
a wooden table
scarred with use.

Let me be the eyes that see – no need to worry.
No need to question
conclusions drawn.

It is only truth,
however
painful
that gives meaning
to our failed,
submissive,
baffled lives.

Let me be the cracking open.
Let me be the shivering.
Let me be the creak and the fall,
let me be
the peel
and the squeeze –
so that juice,
red and
resplendent,
can at last
spill out.

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