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.
30 April 2010
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