Sunday, September 15, 2013

compass glass whistlin
sails tight mast aching
seas of waves
a touch within the code
calling you to ground

growth stalk leaf
the animal cant fight
cant write
still whistle tho
skip then gaze
feel hair on the wind
light on the cells
and the streams
in  the last shot
a quantum on break

a rub of english
sight blurred in the south
limbs from the North

heart fast

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