Thursday, April 24, 2014

concision

youngly honest
shot up
to bare:
languageless
wonder
of sense.


breathe me be by beauregard's bench when & where we will have outgrown our sex
touching to taste elastic skin draped in haste, wrinkled and memory-laced

recent hunger 
an empty echo
from: once-filled
to
capacity
a pleasant
wound.

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