heart this new sound.
music i can write to
                        at last

beau­ti­ful as
you condescend
tilt­ing cheekbones
from ezra pound
a step down from
wild nothing

reach for the pills
sun breaks through breck
you want to bathe
alone. search for
a mean­ing and
won­der. wan­der
it’s pic­nic weath­er. the
pea­cock dress is waiting.

 

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