Men Had Always Been The Reciters Of

We All Have An Old Knot In The Heart We Wish To Untie.

There Are Betrayals In War That Are Childlike Compared With Our Human Betrayals During Peace. The New Lovers Enter The Habits Of The Other. Things Are Smashed, Revealed In A New Light. This Is Done With Nervous Or Tender Sentences, Although The Heart Is An Organ Of Fire.

Kirpal's Left Hand Swoops Down And Catches The Dropped Fork An Inch From The Floor And Gently Passes It Into The Fingers Of His Daughter, A Wrinkle At The Edge Of His Eyes Behind His Spectacles.

She Had Always Wanted Words, She Loved Them; Grew Up On Them. Words Gave Her Clarity, Brought Reason, Shape.

All I Ever Wanted Was A World Without Maps.