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You Carry it With You

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You wear this place
like a cross around your neck—
the sting of incense,
the echo of bells,
the smooth touch of wood
against your lips—
you wear it always.
It stays with you
like the memory of a kiss,
rising in your mind
as you butter toast
or pause to tie your shoe.
It wakes you in the night
with dreams of
of wheels within wheels
and winged beings
many-eyed and dreamless
crying “Holy, Holy, Holy!”
It stays with you always.

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