….In the silence that followed when I took your face and shook you, was afraid,
left,
one of us did with interest and trust feel concern.
Brought it,
dancing, araneidal across the bedsheet.
Knew it,
missed it, struck at it and hit it,
cutting damp,
blinds and their pine trappings.
St Charles
looking, strangely old, lumbering
through
sub tropics, that eternal corner.
I lifted my hand to sap, roll shut the window,
cursing you
in the green canopies, ruffling feathers.
I forgot it was easy,
do I know?
Do I become always wanting,
the same old bars
brought it dancing.
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