By Lori McGinn
(from a German fairy tale 1812)
Me and my bottle
we will be a tincture of grace, fluid mercy,
with healing in our blood.
We will wait for the Irishman,
all the birds of the world
and the magic whistle blowing.
That head came at night to the upper room,
my Grandma asleep next to me,
my Grandma 13 years dead.
The Blue Fairy tucked us in last night
we gathered all the Moons, all the Stars
and the Sunflower children followed.
We walked around in a dirge
a thousand bumblebees
falling from the sky.
I was laying in a field of bees,
I was dreaming,
I was also flying.
When you knocked, I opened.
When you called, I turned my ear.
Gentle spirit, you are my resurrection.
Olivia Hussey, I want to wear your joy,
your unfurled passion,
I would love to inhabit your Juliet,
have your Romeo,
your death scene,
your last kiss.
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