I love the new religion
she says
and I know what we she means
Somehow I feel flattered
as if the religion is me
And I wonder about flattery
and push it back and away
until I am no longer sure where compliments end
and I begin
so I pull the world close and near
disguising belief as coincidence (or confidence)
ease as effort
hope as space
Hurt as poetry
small words as grand notions
the delicate difference
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