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The Flowers of Trauma
9/8/2019

I woke
From your filthy dream
This morning
In your filthy bed
With your filthy arm around me
And your filthy seeds dead-dry between my thighs

And exorcised
Your demons
Like every morning;
And found a tune
Fit to whirl a dervish to.

I went for a short walk
Along the narrow concrete path.
At the river
I practiced kriyas*
Then sat
To compost my garden

When these flowers bloom
I will share them freely
With you and all of our children.

“Yogic cleansing techniques.