Say it’s a form of heat that doesn’t rise
But passes from one body to the next.
Say it flows through you and then out
And back in again like some ghostly thread
Weaving a basic pattern inside of you
That will slowly begin to take the shape
Of what you’ll think you can describe.
Love
Aaron Fagan was born in Rochester, New York, in 1973. He is the author of the poetry collections Garage, Echo Train, and A Better Place Is Hard to Find.
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