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lithe (01/18/2024)
what a tongue flick. a comet-tail
a touch of poison; a fluid sail
lithe
raised upright in a misty wood
to catch winds for long-abandoned boats
a land-loch, waiting for heaven
waiting, like I would
pressed against a door frame
mounded from earth and ash
a home writ upon
these hostile lands:
a space of teeming life
mistook greens and greys
blotches and heightened braille
on...
Thursday 18th January 2024 2:44 pm
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