yes and love (mine)
sex and entertainment (confusing)
wine speeds the poems out of me,
worsens the eyes whose innocence
my face grew out to conquer,
a fuck is weightless and miserable
as an acid,
a woman's loveable morning breath,
rare and original as anything,
yes and love (my words)
overlooking a valley of firs and echoes
in january,
the passage of this year so heavy,
the newly dead, warm in the low fog,
argue for the soul's existence in whispering howls -
my deeply drawn, smoky breath is an unanswerable question.
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