Heaven is a bed
Silk sheet with mountain creases
Pulled straight at the end.
Wrap yourself in rocks
Rest inside your old scabbed wounds
Then sprout to the sun.
Climb up to the top
Raise your hands to the first sun
And be wrapped in silk.
Love is the rock silk
Feather soft salt in your wounds
Purification.
Be still when it hurts
Let the pain alone move you
Like rocks thrown at silk.
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