he had never been stripped naked
to stand before the voice in the dark
he'd never had his flesh flailed
by the winnowing fire
his head had never been shaved
in the house of loneliness
his feet had never been washed
by ferris wheel tears
the voice in the dark
spoke like autumn
the voice in the dark
knelt like the stars
the voice in the dark loved him
like water breaking through stone
the voice in the dark loved him
like night loves dreaming of dawn
he stood naked before the voice
the voice was prostrate before him
his head was shaved, his flesh was pure
the voice loved him like a desert
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