Blow the wind away,
take down its pipes;
incarcerate the gale,
vacuum the air,
so the beach stands still
when the sun sets
and the waves lock in their vaults
their gifts of broken glass,
bottle caps, driftwood,
our displeasure, grievances,
and lost cities
with broken levees.
Unbitter my life
don't let any hurricane sit
on its haunches,
to attack in an instant;
bag it, send it to the dumps,
or burn it before the autumn leaves
start to fall.
Then, enter your eyes
into my dresser,
closet your ego
with the winterwear,
and let your sweet words
bind to my nerve cells
to make every molecule on earth
bathe inside my binoculars;
and with nothing in between
the horizon and the sky,
stop and stare
at your transcendental magic.
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