these times

in a landscape not abundant love
we were lowered the edge
like torsos .......... of the days

on the road assembled
into sections:
newspaper, autumn, a tonne
of energy

- pleasure of childhood
the cat, the black one -
were no longer .......... the goal

we went interior (to joy
before death

of red) Beloved
............... of rain
yes, the interior ..... breathe!

...... of summer
tore me out of it


Unknown said…
I have posted a a poem in response to your poem.

The Land

The Great Ancient Philosopher
Avilia Enmavilda wrote
Of Sects
The Land Where Camels move freely
the Beautiful Good Population ENSLAVED
Lovers of more than One permitted
Not Accepting of Persecution

Enmavilda Spoke of the Rose
A beautiful Girl, tortured for brillance and beauty
in a Domestic Violence S/M Relationship who turned to women
She had a number of female lovers
Inpeccable Character - GOOD
Understanding Logic
Very Religious
Absolutely Non Persecutionary.

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