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The Raven

The Raven   I am the precipice of the mountain you are standing upon,   I am the feather that lands at your feet when you are alone,   I am the dream wrapped around you, holding you tight on a cold winter’s eve:   I am the moon catching you when you fall from the sky,   I am the song of the flower that kisses you good night,   I am the wildfire that burns between us.   I am the heart that goes on beating even when it is broken,   I am the kiss that bruises you, the lust that does not struggle.   I am the first time you fell in love from a distance:   I am the faithful and the betrayed, the unthinkable,   I am the silent lover, the starving lover, the lover who wants to be yours.   I am the unfinished stone you searched for in the quarry:   I am the naked earth who stands before you awaiting your hammer and your blade.   I am the poet, the sculptor and the shadow reading your words,   I am the dream between dusk and darkness,   I am the pathless woods the broken compass and the poetry lost in translation.   I was the one you were seeking   because I was seeking you.   I was the wildfire that burned between us.   ( Now )   I am the embers laying down in darkness.   I am temptation,   I am the raven.     Poetry and Art © Gesso Cocteau