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Aurora Matahari Raiment 


G. Bennett Ulrich

I hate labels.  Yet, 
sometimes I need them 
to rationalize.

I hate anything 
that makes you hateful.

I hate the fear 
of the knowledge 
that I could conspire 
to hurt you, when 
all you have shown me 
is kindness.

It's because we're two of a kind 
and you're afraid 
of the other you.

Afraid of myself? 
Aren't we all?

Afraid of not truly knowing ourselves, 
afraid of losing ourselves, not 
of ourselves.

Fear is a four letter word... 
Let's change it 
--Make it real 
so I can visualize... 
Darkness maybe, 
thickly enveloping me 
being alone, 
yet confined... 
Unable to reach out... 

Sometimes boundaries 
can be the greatest freedoms. 
Take this poem, for example, 
we never said that we would only write in English, 
yet we tend to-- 
we just know what works and we go with it. 
The rules are unspoken 
until they're broken, 
then a simple word or phrase 
brings us back to the point 
that we work well together 
and play well too. 
It's not a chore-- 
It's more... 

There are a lot of unspoken rules aren't there? 
I like to believe that if they aren't verbalized, 
they don't exist. 
I think I am living slightly shrouded, 
but you see right through me, 
to the core, 
knowing me and not walking away. 
What makes you stay?

I've been burdened with sight 
--and I can see that this is far more than 
just right.

So you will wait out the monsoon, 
the torrent of melancholy to find me 
--hopefully restored, 
and reaching out with open arms? 
Will you wager the diamonds of your time, 
or cast your pearls at swine?

Hope is reserved for those too afraid 
to have faith. 
I've seen the signs, 
this deluge will end 
and I will send out my dove to find land, 
a strong and safe place to stand.

Will you stand alone? 
I am not going to worry about the outcome anymore. 
If this is a pairing of perfection, 
then you and I will be writing late at night 
for a million Phoebus falls. 
And that takes out the sting slap immediacy.

So be it. 

Reprinted with permission of authors 

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