Locked in the clock of my brain, ears
Cringe at cricket-chirps, foot-screeps
On the pebble path. A starved god
Squats in my mind, twitching, watching,
Waiting to die. After the waft
Of mown lawn, my spirit springs free
As a genie, floats out spiraling.
Eyes browse at the blurted moon-rise
Of elephant, parading clouds; my west arm
Arcs over to the east, circusing yes
Follow me, my love, where mist hills, hefted
Like dinosaurs, lift through the night.
I will give everything away.
Locked
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