Your throat’s dry with the vertiginous breath
Of the sleepwalker now you feel at
night against
Your face a heat no longer burning
prodigious
Alley cats away so you promise your
spunky navel
Bitterly trembling odors that you
might as well call
Fragrances and there’s this quiet
gasp of laughter
When you say next time my dear my
voice won’t
Come along with me smiling indifferently
you say
What do we think of slim girls now! what do
we
Think of cats O paradise! the ocean
heaves a sigh
And swells heavy thoughts beneath
the sun and
Silver-slivered clouds—these
contrails left behind
Passenger jets heading to
Hawaii maybe Guam
Though I don’t believe
it either way
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