And she said/ let the light
wash you
over to be sated/so I did
now there’s this itchy-thing in my skin
crawling on my attention/telling me it
is home,
this/nebulousness of infinity…
And the early/birds taste a new rapture
while singing rubitin/as
raggedy as they can
Yet, she doesn’t turn up her
sundress/it’s so easy to be burned…
And someone’s gotta walk me home/
gotta
lead me through this traverse…
But I’d rather watch from the nest/ to lie within her in
spirit
than to subtract the numerable/ bullets from their cushions
mapping themselves into a skull/as if stars, as if comets,
as if…
It was joy/they were spilling all
over
her from their soft little pockets/they plucked
the day right out of its own mouth/ snatching
the tongue…
the moons, their mothers/getting gurbed and done-up
from the fists of our sons/too afraid to
leave anything
amiss in their souls/ and still we cast out to them with
slurs
Now someone’s gotta walk us home/
gotta
lead us through this traverse…
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