30 April 2010

whistle

did you know me as sampson
the locks between scissor/ appalachian*

sting the knees, or kiss me where i hurt,
your ache gave to me; a random gravel--

lesson from who you never, less
sweet on the after, catch home in a shipswind.

at least the last length i feel, at-last
you measure. a bow in my off hand for the hunt.

No comments: