Monday, December 19, 2011

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If tassels could bind you in void ducts
and grass water the steps all after
landing like sunlight in the courtyard
of a palace of garbage

you would come down wreathed
by common disguises
an imp in furs

but you hold wheat, apples, a pinch
and deep inside the atom
empty space happening like
an impenetrable light-thicket.

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