Saturday, June 17, 2023

I think of you as an inverted comma,
life pouring forward from you
to its peaks of rugged flare
in the cracked panorama
in the summit of agonized cicada
in the flash magnolia
purposed for the craft of heat in savor
splashed on the map of desire
by the echoes that you stir the blood
by the dance beats in springtime
and the ringed bouquet of beaks
that you bring singing home.

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