I purchased you there, so pink
And white THUD I can barely
Contain myself I can bare
Myself to the afternoon
To the birds at the window
To the school playground /but I
Cannot think more about the
Flapping omens of the
Possible rasping away
My paper-veins, match-lit,
Curling backward. You inhale
Their ashes, gulping, whisper
With bloody breath the name
of a bird.
Sunday, 5 April 2009
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