1.17.2009

This Yielding Flesh

flung herself to save
herself from an unnatural
life

for the love of
the cello

these tables on the
broad floor brand scales

lazy murmurs mewing red hair

fingers mute volcanic
adoration shock

of pink-crested
zippers festive peak

numerous vines
throated in blurring effects

under the extent of her
daring had it been

the thick selection it would

have begged the belt

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