Monday, April 12, 2010

who's to say what is good?
I know
that I know

because of the way
your softhands so
rise and fall
I am lost in between
the 2nd and 3rd knuckle
because you wear every
curve like a red
wedding dress

life's canyonings
make me whoop and holler
and kerraw
like I have been
falling since birth

it is a good thing
to fall so deeply
into the bowels of the earth
because the sky never changes
and clouds smokemasks
wispy liars
but the fires
of the twisted smythe
light up the reveries and
warm my dry bones

I hold with the bacchantes
I would rip off every limb
for your music

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