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Jan 2015
i’m laying down with a
book on my neck
and your ghastly temper shook sarah’s branches.
the way they shook was reminiscent of
a code or some secret recipe
lost in the universe
like the way shafts of light
roll across the dust on a table
or the way the hawk cuts
the sky in half over
the barn
incalculable, it would seem.
your anger, too, shall pass.
so i roll over in bed and wish i was buried.
z
Written by
z  nowhere
(nowhere)   
769
     Ezry D and z
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