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PK Wakefield
Poems
Feb 2015
Untitled
doing just the body lips
girl full of sits
short skirt barely
inches into
smooth mile
becomes
hands neatly
collapsed in
perfect house of
curled beauty
from which
twitch
two spates
of fragile wrist
twist upon
eery limb
of excellent
arm
metting
just clasp
of shoulder
under
which fits
over
cleat of
marble neck
holding hover
of heaven's
strand:
a face like
she so
April
drunk inside with
flowers Spring
and everywhere
(constantly)
MUSiC
Written by
PK Wakefield
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324
September
and
Azaria
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