MILK MAKES
DISGRUNTLED ANIMALS
DISGRUNTLED ANIMALS
How does that go? We carry ourselves
willingly, over the tendentious movements
along valleys and hills? A fawn dance of
oases only we are party to? I don't know,
and my shoulders already hurt from
carrying another load.
-
Let me briefly seek an audience:
I am ancient. I am coarse.
Dishevelled. Uncouth. My hooves,
as yet, un-toe'd.
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