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o o o
o o o o
o o o o
o o o o o
o o o o o
o o o o o
*
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The hornbeam rocks in the wind
– leaves striated, curled –
Planets thunder in the green
or blue aurora
draping your eyes
in winding canals
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Standing naked on a plinth
she commands –
…I forget the concept
There is only herness
I am a little lamb
looking up at her
*
*
At the page fold there is warmth
a smooth bead and bookmark
My head buried
The word on my tongue
Oh tell me what you think
in expletive code
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A romantic anthology –
its tobacco miasma
The spine’s slight curve
Pages warped by spillage
A naked woman does her hair
I incline to the paper
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A palaeolithic venus of moss
in a shampoo advert
The water cascading
absorbing, me collapsing
Her form in the water
Moss comes first to the island
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Moss! fallen from the gutter
A perfect sagged roundness
A salient green, I’m jealous
of the pavement it sits on
Spirals of leaves like rope
I drape on my warming hand
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Blood on the ice, fish blood
Octopus and squid flesh
The fresh blue plastic bag
they carry – I don’t care for it.
But you, with your cold
You are fire in the morning
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Ankles knit and clench
the tension lessens
Holding her feet to my stomach
eyes reflecting perfect light
Roses cling to her, thorns
She deadheads me
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The wine glass is thick
and hums with a low language
Red, her vampire lips
the wine in the glass, her smell
The delicate weight of the duvet
breathing alchohol off her
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