Leaf Checkers
Twined, heaving, I sniffle watching the four winged
beast flail the whole yard long, appendages snapping, hulk
posturing. Repeated reimaginings of your perceptions until
sleep is hilariously distant. Not a tittle poetic about it. I'm
raunchy as I am undersexed thusly I only strut when I pout.
I let the balloon return to Apollo. I drink warm syrup
from a glass green bottle, a thousand stalks outside
the van turn from green to copper, I bumble into bars
leaning humble, pretrofied bees serve as beads round
my throat so I don't choke when I write about you.
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