The Holiness of Your Turns
To the obfuscated
and unfolding flowers,
spun half-wise golden,
among reams of silvered croci:
Dance, in form of self—
in cadence, spiral, tremor, wrest—
these dives hallowed, these dips
to the wholeness of self, to what
reveals the language of your figure,
embodies the gestures of your soul.
Mitchell Hart lives in Northern California, where he studies, drinks tea and edits the fantastical poetry weekly, Through the Gate.