I sing off-key my eyes open to every breeze ah!
I no longer have one shred of what
was very
Likely never there something you gave
me no less
Charming something that needs an
affectionate
Body lotion an oil maybe an
anticipation no more
The blow hard enough to kick that
snow off your
Shoulder O friend I could make a
donkey snore
There be myself on the mossy spur of
a thought
There be I against which mist breaks
like a distaff
There be me offering the smallest
premonitions
The nonexistent son never mind the
nightingales
So what if you see visions where my
forehead
Swallows light a sudden alarm dark
windy days
Ideas wrought in the frothing curls
of your hair
Author Reading
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