I So Very Much Love You
So which secretion
is yours, from ripeness and sun
and which mine from sour
grapes all in a bunch?
Can I tell the truth at last?
Or is it likely
I will fabricate
yet another cloudy light,
a foggy fable -
(Interrupted: found
in the rocks and waves within
soggy wrack, two bones.)
March 27, 2014 2:26 PM
The plane went down. Mystery remains. Grief remains. Almost certainly there was one lover among them all.
I may have a new writing buddy. We shall see.
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.