there's medicine in repetition; I

        puppet myself to build a presence

        the presence of God 

        a hundred pseudonyms slip from my hands

        from my hard fortress of little names

        to name the ordinary  

        a hundred more to soften my reservations

        like an old love letter. 
 

        2. testing 
 

        I test the strength of my resolve

        that repetition will be my medicine 

        I place a silver locket in my

        foothold and invite storms of birds

        to punish the picture inside

        with daylight 

        it remains; another faithful phoenix reveals her

        working reflexes under the needle

        of midnight 

        I watch her migrate past the quicksand of shadow

        on shadow and thank God for that part

        of the sky. 
 

        3. thankfulness 
 

        repetition, repetition; you're the roof

        I lost at twelve, the ransom I hallucinated

        at twenty  

        the signature I walked away from at

        twenty-seven then the trigger that woke

        me at thirty  

        but now I'm old enough to know

        that the lightning of loneliness ends