of the orange tree, I am yellow
I am fond of the looking willow
the long gray clouds spread out
like skirts: scissor's eyes and so forth --
the flesh of silver rainbows in the air.
If I were to reach for it gently, I'd have
died twice in the reaching. Anyways, it is
us in the underneath aftershock sucking
pink and pretending everything is ours.
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1 comment:
I like this much much-- maybe we could add it to the book????
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