Tuesday, March 10, 2015



What gives you the ability to maneuver your body
over the dirt

What garb have you found in this slippery room
How did your hands pluck it from the slimy weeds
and moss

When you stomp the boot of your foot
I know you mean stillness

Together let us kick away the last of the ice
that dares to slick the brick

Weather will lick us Its ice cream cone
Every minute we are the going away sweetness

so whatever power has brought your body here
to me
I bow before it

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