The Palace of Winds


We die, we die rich with lovers and tribes,
tastes we have swallowed,
bodies we have entered and swum up like rivers,
fears we have hidden in, like this wretched cave.
I want all this marked on my body.
We are the real countries,
not the boundaries drawn on maps with the names of powerful men.

I know you will come and carry me out into the palace of winds.
That’s all I’ve wanted — to walk in such a place with you, with friends, an earth without maps.
The light has gone out, and I’m writing in the darknwss


~ by scalambra on November 11, 2008.

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