Another Venue
with other confines....stabilities...ornamentation....
a place of grassland sleep...
a whisper not
of that roped and tied and trampled
ground
up by the bibliotechnical arcade.....
.which petals are intact..
.which branches burn.....
is it a land of sympathy, then....swollen with plumeria and rushing cataracts...
......a torn page and a jotted evensong......?
poem by that's how I intended to ... delilah contrapunctal
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