Thursday, 30 October 2014

Poem

Invite into me the straight lull
facing two or three in multiple
failings, reach to dry throat warming.

Without the energy even to
dislike, dislike survivalist ribs
he touched down the ladder.

Won’t you speak slowly and hold
not disarming the love I universally
for once just felt? Language

decking pain too abstract that
collapse leaf sound, aggrandise
morbidly, hope ambiguity along.

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