Wednesday, November 23, 2016

8887. YOUR SHEETS ARE WAMSUTTA, BABY

YOUR SHEETS ARE 
WAMSUTTA, BABY
Without a doubt; the trench is from
me. I walked this cavern, delicately.
And once before  -  you can probably
recall  -  we talked like this for hours.
-
I can say now what I didn't say then:
endives are calcium to a heart made
of stone? I like to make things up,
confound the illicit misses of my
heart. I may have been the archer
who posed for the pose of a God.
-
Apheter, known as Apollo. Acher,
meaning 'let loose' in their own 
language. All this stuff really
baffles me : and what is the
point of a God if it won't
speak freely? All this
silence gets spooky.
-
An onerous burden to carry.
Instead, I'm lying down on your bed.
Your sheets are Wamsutta, baby.

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