prepostery leans vintage-ward
I have supposed indigenous
nutrients bespeak you or
a qualified result emerges
half immersed in limerick
or tall-boy sugarbowl
or something emanative
like the touch clock
blasphemy to wit your shoulder
as a new wood lanky like
and blood blond like
the vantage point this
young full tree may
register in me as though
this has to have been
true again just as morning . . .
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