28 May 2010


Surprise, you steal soft bases
Rather than arch, that
Predatory flare stalking your spine
Pardoning fumes map your X
In a way particular to 0;

The squek as well reminds one
Of poor, remembered smoke
Around which fires choke
And whistling volleys provoke.

Which is why i thought archery.
More, as crushing a fib, fantasy
From under what one imagines

Are ashes, reaches skyward
Its sporting design to strangle

Steals me through a shade.

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