Saturday, May 11, 2013

We Are Blue Folk Under Our Skin

The whole of cellular syrup
is jumbled with salt.
It clings to the underground
with longing for drink and food
it hungers for a body.
I watched the moon resign her pool of milk
to give the earth order and edges.
The memory of it gathers flowers
beneath last years wild
and quenches the short forever

for now.

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