Monday, August 19, 2013


Chasm flower, all the clouds
in one stream over the earth
grey-white with suffering air
and the lovers beneath them
draining their teeth.
Purple-white, delicately wounded,
into the webbed soil.
A bed of daisy chains,
a riotously multiplied patch
of clover.  A gasoline fire
spilled at its descending edges.
Our dream linked, a bed in the open.

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