I want to tell you about the storm
That took him away
But the storm is over and
I’m left reeling while he sits
on the other side of town.
There is magic in both
your absence and
your presence but not in
my force upon our friendship.
There was a magic
we held together
before your hand so firmly fit around mine.
I knew my name then
and I heard your heart.
I run now to the rivers to cleanse myself of you
or so I think
I go to the Santa Fe river with offerings for Oshun and your name
wrapped around a rock I lodge directly in the stream
I go to the Pecos River to pray, tossing offerings and listening
I go to the arroyo, so dry, and sit beneath the bridge.  Calling the names of deities
I take a piece of paper that belonged to you crumple it in the dry river bed.
How foolish I am… when what I am trying to cleanse me of is me…..
My feelings, my depth, my beauty…
I reach into myself
My brothers and sisters surround me
And I bind myself to Me and my God
I’ve nothing to rid myself of anymore.
Only the River like the Wind to rush in.

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