Monday, October 5, 2009

Tau(gh)t

I go back to that no and I sing from it.
I practice epilogue: needlethreadepi-
thelium. As what constitutes mean is the
variance. Perhaps I fly hollow. Into
some you, then. And rest. And where will the drama
queen darling? My tongue is thin without your tongue
to build a team on. Because we have been there,
dear Ranger. Let me punt to you. Face first is
the new tyranny of winged-ness. We were
a Jerusalem of avalanches gone
cleanly. Grip the resting heart, wresting. (Love, rest.)

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