Sunday, November 11, 2007


a single branch dusted pink and wrapping around curled in a circle

ticks counter clockwise around her moon

as petals fall and scatter

she's coming

as cats call through the fleshy oak evening

as this longing has displaced itself in your absence

as we sit cross legged in fields of misery


through the thin stages of our bondage

your image treads the unsubstantial space for a moment

then drowns

watching as you grow smaller in the cool April haze


to join those howling stars

in the thorny


shrieking sky

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