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PK Wakefield Sep 2016
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"I'm sorry."

I love you.

(I'm sorry.)

"Goodbye."











































.
PK Wakefield Sep 2016
(there is always this moment)


quietly . littlely

    soft within

bed and thinking
of lips eyes hair
breathing
still and strenuously

pressed beneath breast         .


the heart feels
and pushes against
rib and spine;

(a fan plays
        /
the cat eats)

and lingers little sleep,
for thought is always
and always of thoughts

there is something
somewhere
difficultly serene

improbable to touch
yet touches with
exacting grace;

My dear:

       My love
           of nothing
                Little which


you are
not real
your hand is a vapor

of tense reeling to tingle
under skin which rushes
with clovered spice
of splintered health.

(my love i have always loved you
that you are not something real;
PK Wakefield Sep 2016
being inside
too long to taste
or see,

there is the
dumb something
naked which

laughter and youth
have forgotten;

(the move music
and art sound;

the color and splay
of vibrant self)

being where


              (some     where)


inside too much
without feeling
or smelling

has just to want
and taste something seems:

of flower,
,hips
grass,
,and petal.
PK Wakefield Sep 2016
this lily new,
bright with white petals :

seems to sink
seems to speak,

bobbing and
whitely with petal

the wind over its
hair; the sound and

      (sometimes)

of its hollow full
of pistil and rind .
PK Wakefield Aug 2016
who is alive thinks:

-sunlight

-dull air

          riven with

                     rose smell;


perchance which
the rain with
mingles.


(autumn is near
her dress is fine
her hair is long
and serious,

it throws over
the mountains
and is alive

with crips dampness)


the bed is smooth and deep.
it pulls deeply,
and arms wonder for dreams.

to be dreaming
in the fine arms of autumn;

whose dress is nice
and whose dull serious hair
is
  riven
      with
         rose
          smell.
PK Wakefield Aug 2016
i loved you
that you were something
easyweak
between the flesh and eyes;

doing with precise smallness
your hands within my hands.
PK Wakefield Aug 2016
"I tried."

After all, "I love you."

(what more could i do?)
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